


Dead Hearts

by DolorousDoll



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Hand Jobs, M/M, Masturbation, One Tiny True Blood Reference, Scenting, Season/Series 01, Slow Burn, Sooooookkkieeee, Trust Issues, Unhappy Ending, memory sharing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-27
Updated: 2014-04-05
Packaged: 2018-01-06 09:19:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 43,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1105106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DolorousDoll/pseuds/DolorousDoll
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jackson’s always strived to be the best and now he’s found out a way in which he can be - by becoming a werewolf. It seems simple enough, he just didn’t take into account the hunters, and all the other weird supernatural crap that comes with it. But if he wants to be the best he’ll have to accept all of that and the reluctant acquaintance he has to forge with one Derek Hale.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Equilibrium

**Author's Note:**

> Finally guys - like I promised my new Halemore fic a couple days before schedule. I’m super excited about this story so I hope you all like it. I don't have a Beta so if there are any mistakes my bad. 
> 
> The stories based in season one’s timeline right about the time that Jackson’s having nightmares about the Hale house. I basically added my own spin onto it so certain things will be different, if any of the details don’t become clear let me know.
> 
> Oh also I've written that the Hale fire was ten years ago because at one point in the series Derek says it was six years prior and then at another time he says it was ten. I decided to go with ten years because it works better with the story. 
> 
> Uploads for the next few chapters may be sporadic, just warning ya'll. 
> 
> Anyway, read , enjoy and don’t forget to let me know what you think of it. 
> 
> Dolorous Doll 
> 
> X

The smells of burning flesh and blood are potent to his nose. Time seems to have slowed at an immense rate. Jackson’s adamant on the fact that this is just a dream but some sensations are too vivid for it to be entirely subconscious. The screams are too real, the sensations to cruelly indubitable.  The house burns around him and with it the memories of a curtailed childhood, but not his because this isn’t his house. Regardless he feels the loss as if it is his own. Hears the screams of family members and can picture their faces and remember their names but not know who they are.

An onslaught of memories bombard him things he’s sure he won’t experience again – the strong band of a father’s arms as they wrestle in the back yard losing themselves in a tumble of laughter and grass strands.   A mother, whose smile is so sweet, pink cupids bow lips stretched around desultory shaped teeth and a sister whose opinion means more to you than anything, whose presence can calm and irritate you simultaneously.

The fire doesn’t stop; it’s brutal and infectious- like a disease spreading throughout the house, up the walls and across the floors, blackening everything it touches.  And Jacksons trying to get out because he has to call 911, he has to help the people inside. But every exit is locked, chained shut, keeping him caged in.

Fire blazes up his arm, skin breaking out in burn blisters. The pain is unfathomable but the loss of his family is worse.  He reaches for a door handle and the metal of it is sweltering, and someone’s behind him, a female yelling at him to open the door. ` _Do you want to die_! ‘she screams and for a moment he wants to answer yes but before he can the roof caves in and joining the fire are clouds of smoke and endless amounts of debris, plaster and brick.  

Jackson shoots up in bed, gasping breaths leaving his mouth.  He grits his teeth, balls up a section of his duvet and punches it when he feels the heated wetness of tears in his eyes.  He’s exhausted and the nightmares are only getting worse. Before he just pictured the fire, now its memories that are so vivid they can’t be anything but real. But Jackson’s never seen this house before, they’re not _his_ memories.  

He lies back down and instantly jolts before sitting up again. There’s coaxing tendrils of sleep trying to lull him back to bed but every time he closes his eyes all he sees is the fire.

 He turns to the side, throws his legs over the bed and shivers as the cool air rushes over his sleep warm skin.

He’s so tired but sleep is no longer appealing. He can’t seem to get this house out of his head, or the pang of loss he feels inside of his chest, which is infinitely stupid because he doesn’t even know the names of the people who burned; he sees their faces in his nightmares but their unfamiliar.

Jackson slowly gets up from his bed, hears his bed squeak an inkling before he goes over to his desktop and turns on his laptop.

Whiles he’s waiting for it to load he rolls a pencil back and forth over his desk, listens as the two wooden items create a grating sound. His eyes flutter shut and he gently continues the motions with the pencil, eyes cracking open a moment later when the start up music of his laptop sounds.

He hisses slightly and looks towards the door hoping the noise didn’t wake his parents up. After a few moments silence he thinks he’s good so he loads up a search engine and types out ‘house fires’ and the results are endless. Each tab he clicks on show house fires from all around the world each more gruesome then the other and then there’s actually a website on the easiest way to _start_ a fire and who the fuck even created that?

He quietly groans as he rubs the sides of his index fingers over his eyes, the irises sore from the bright glare of his computer screen.

He pauses thinking briefly before typing ‘house fires in Beacon Hills’ into the search engine.  He clicks on the first link and it’s an online article from the town’s local paper. There’s a picture on the left hand side of the article of a burnt house and Jackson recognises it instantly as the one he’s seen in his dreams.  He stares at it for a moment, eyes wide, hands clammy with sweat, heart beating at a slightly increased rate because it doesn’t make any sense.

 He snaps his eyes away from the picture of the desolate house and starts reading.  The first thing his eyes settle on is the date the article was published – ten years ago meaning he was just a child which explains why he doesn’t remember hearing about it.  The next words that catch his attention are suspected arson, eleven dead, three survivors and the name Hale. Jackson scrolls down steadily looking for more information or related stories but there’s nothing, no information on what happened to the remaining survivors, no family pictures, no news on the arson queries.  

Jackson had always shunned Beacon Hills police department and their inadequate ways of dealing with absolutely everything but this was just ridiculous. Eleven people died in a mysterious house fire and no one bothered to continue the investigation to find out what might have happened.

Jackson pointlessly highlights the word Hale because for some reason it feels familiar and makes the scratch marks on the back of his neck tingle.  He reads through the article again where it explains the location of the house and Jackson belatedly realises that Lydia’s house isn’t too far from there. It’s on the other side of the woods.

Jackson bites his lip in contemplation eyes darting to the corner of his laptop screen where it displays the time. It’s just after two in the morning and he’s got school tomorrow, he shouldn’t be out gallivanting in the woods looking for a house he’s been seeing in his dreams but what the hell he’s going to do it anyway.

Jackson spares a moment to clear his browsing history out of habit before throwing his hoodie and leather jacket on along with his grey jogging bottoms. His hairs flattened out due to the lack of gel and he contemplates doing it for a moment before he realises that no one will be up to see him, to judge the way he looks so with quiet steps he creeps down the stairs, grabs his car keys from the table in the corridor and heads out into the night.

Beacon Hills is oddly eerie at night. Most of the surrounding area is covered in dark foliage and all Jackson can think of now is what can hide beneath and between that foliage.  He loses his trail of thought for a minute and when he looks up he’s doing fifty in a thirty zone and is heading straight for a red light. He slams on his breaks; thanks god there’s no one behind him and grimaces at the insistent pull of his seat belt against his neck and chest.  He curses when the light turns green a second later then shoves the car into first and drives off, feels the car jolt when he lifts his foot off of the clutch too quickly and sometimes he wonders how the hell he passed his driving test.

He stops off at a local convenience store and finds himself scanning the isles looking for flowers and he knows it’s ridiculous but reading the article and realising that the fire he’s been dreaming about had been real makes the pit of sadness in his stomach feel like its expanding and swallowing him whole.  It seems like a minute unimportant thing but he wants to pay his respects and he’s not quite sure how. Because that’s what people do right? When people die, when bad things happen you give people a casserole or flowers or something and Jackson’s never been good with cooking so flowers it is.

He ends up standing in front of the flowers for a few minutes trying to decide which ones he should choose. When he turns to the side and sees a shop assistant eyeing him wearily he wonders if he looks like a crazy homeless because he’s wearing track pants and his eyes are red rimmed from lack of sleep. He scowls at them before turning sharply and grabbing the first bunch in front of him, ignores the water that drips out from the bottom of the cut off stems. He pays for them, grumbles at the cashier to keep the change before chucking the flowers onto the passenger seat and making his way out to the woods.

The Hale house – mansion more like -is huge. Bigger then Jackson’s home and when Jackson ambles up to it, his bunch of yellow Plumeria and white Lily flowers in hand he stops about ten feet away, shuts his eyes and shudders. He can see what the house looked like before, can remember it from his dreams.  It feels dark now, like there’s an aura around the house, something evil and haunted.  

He steps his way up to the house, stops at the porch and contemplates going in but as he looks up and sees half the roof missing he dismisses the idea, he doesn’t want rafters falling on him. He bends at the waist and places the flowers down, rearranging them a moment later so there up and leaning against one of the porch’s beams.

Jackson takes a step back and closes his eyes, he hates the nightmares, hates how he can’t sleep but what he detests more than anything is how it’s affecting him. How he feels mournful over something that he has no idea about but the more time that passes the more these feelings, these memories become vivid and he just wants to know what they mean. He’s never dreamt of this house before, has only started seeing it and the people who lived in it after he got those damn scratches on his neck. He reaches a hand back fingers brushing with a feather light carefulness over the marks that are still fresh and sore. He winces despite himself, draws his hand away with an irritated sound as he opens his eyes.

He feels like he should say something, but there’s not much he can say to an empty house so he turns away and gets into his car unmindful of the hazel eyes that watch him from inside the Hale house.

/

Derek can recall the night his sister left New York perfectly. He can remember coming in late from his shift at a local bar, only to hear his sister on the phone, voice muffled as she asked about theories, witnesses and suspects.

Derek had stepped across the living room floor louder than necessary in an attempt to get her attention and she must have been fully focused on the conversation because she took a while to even notice him. She’d hung up the phone soon after letting the person on the line know that she’d call them back.

“Who was that?” Derek asked, voice curious.

“An old friend from Beacon Hills.” Laura answers, without missing a beat and Derek resists the urge to groan in frustration but a bigger part of him - the beta part - the part that tells him to respect his alpha tells him to keep quiet.  Instead he turns around and stomps back out to the kitchen, rests his hands on the countertop and leans over it as he breathes out heavily through his nostrils.

He hears Laura’s light footsteps behind him, her bare toes brushing over first the carpeted floor then the kitchen tiles. She doesn’t say anything but Derek can feel her presence there, emitting _packpackpack_ but he can’t think past the way she’s lied to him.

“You told me you were going to stop trying to find out what’s happening there.” Derek says because Laura had, they’d seen the news - the slaughters that were happening in Beacon Hills, each one more gruesome than the last.

“Aren’t you curious?”

“No.”

“I can hear your heartbeat, I know your lying.”

Derek spins around, mouth twitching urging him to bare his teeth in anger.

“There’s nothing but bad memories there. Whatever’s happening there now- those killings -it has nothing to do with us.”

“Of course it does Derek. Innocent people are dying.” Laura shouts with conviction and Derek damns her for being so good, for being self-righteous and wanting to help the people of that god forsaken town even after they did nothing to help him and Laura after their family died.

“I don’t care.” Derek tells her, jaw tense and eyes watery.

“You don’t mean that.” She whispers and she sounds disappointed in him.

“Listen to my heart and tell me I’m lying?” He coaxes. “I. Don’t. Care.”  He repeats slowly and Laura listens to his heart, hears nothing but a steady thump – the truth.

“We don’t owe them anything.”  Derek reminds her because sometimes it’s as if Laura forgets that.

“I’m not doing this for them.” She says and Derek frowns.

“Then why are you doing it?” He asks, his voice just this edge of pleading.

“Because it’s the right thing to do.”

/

Derek doesn’t truly experience loss until he feels Laura die. He has Peter of course he does, but Peter isn’t the man he used to be.  He didn’t just lose his home in the fire; he lost his wife and his two children. Everything that kept him together, his anchors.  Derek and Laura understood his need for time alone and didn’t question him when he voiced his need to visit a friendly pack the Hale’s knew. The other pack – the Thomson’s - were a large friendly pack located in New Orleans. Peter had gone there and Derek and Laura had gone to New York.  

They kept up with conversations on the phone but most of the time Peter didn’t say anything, just listened but it was enough.

The moment Derek sets foot back into Beacon Hills he’s riddled with trouble, first he finds out the rouge Alpha that killed Laura has turned somebody and not just anyone but a teenager, a kid, who has no idea of the power that’s been thrust upon him, and his quirky best friend who insistently shoves his way into Derek’s life with questions about folklore and sarcastic comments. But what’s worse is the day Derek goes to the school after he’s been shot with wolfs bane.  It’s when he smells _him_ in the corridor. A distinct scent – teenage boy, a slight film of perspiration, leather and beneath it all a faint hint of wolf. Derek’s drawn to him straight away, feels his feet dragging him over to the teen but once he gets there the scent of wolf fades. He’s left with the teen eyeing him questionably, curious and suspicious at the same time. He just needs to know where Scott is so Scott can help him because he doesn’t want to die and he can feel the poison spreading through his veins.

 One minute he’s walking away from the kid then he’s shoving him up against the lockers, his claws digging into the back of his neck, tender flesh breaking under his fingers. The teen makes a thick pained noise and Derek’s breathe shudders before he pulls back. His blood stays on Derek’s fingers and the fact that it doesn’t smell entirely human doesn’t register with Derek because he’s too busy trying to stay alive.

He ignores it though until the day the Alpha shows himself again, this time at the video store. When no harm comes to the teen it’s obvious then that what Derek had scented on him wasn’t wrong. There was a hint of wolf and the Alpha obviously smelt it too, that’s why it had left Jackson unharmed. 

Jackson starts visiting the old Hale house, first the visits seem spontaneous and random before it becomes a part of his routine. He comes to the house every Tuesday and Thursday always late at night, always with red rimmed tired eyes. Sometimes he leaves flowers, sometimes he just stands there but every time Derek watches him.  

It’s on a Saturday morning that Jackson visits and Derek’s thrown because this isn’t part of Jackson’s usual routine neither is the fact that he’s walking _into_ the house.  Derek almost considers hiding then realises how stupid that idea is – this is his house, its Jackson who’s trespassing.

Derek watches silently from the top landing as Jackson enters the house, fingers lingering on the door handle.  Derek takes a deep breath, trying to scent what he had before but there are too many other scents to pinpoint Jackson’s exactly.  

Jackson runs his fingers over the black crusted wall right over where there used to be a family portrait and the touch is so specific that Derek’s engrossed. He takes a step to try and better see Jackson and in the process steps on a creaky floorboard. The noise catches Jackson’s attention and the kid jerks his hand away from the wall and snaps his head up.  

Derek hides just in time but the sound of Jackson’s rabbiting heartbeat is deafening. He can scent indecision before Jackson goes to leave, but before he gets the chance to Derek jumps down from the stairs, shoots his arm out and slams the front door shut.

Jackson’s back goes ram rod straight, body jerking like he’s just been electrocuted.  He doesn’t go to fight Derek and the older man doesn’t know whether or not that makes him smart or dumb.  He can tell when recognition clicks in, when Jackson recognises him as the man who pushed him up against the school lockers and dug his nails into the back of his neck.

But now that he’s here Derek has the opportunity to find out exactly what Jackson is.  He hadn’t smelt human, not entirely but Derek can’t figure out what the hell he is.

Derek grabs the lapels of Jackson’s jacket and shoves him against the door. Jackson’s pulse rises, heart drumming at way too fast a beat so Derek lets him go of his jacket but remains close.  After all he won’t get the answers he wants if Jackson has a panic attack.

“What the hell is your deal?” Jackson asks, irritated, eyes wary as he readjusts his jacket.

Derek just looks at him like he’s the anti Christ before asking ‘What are you?’ His tone is calculating and quiet but all Jackson can think of is _True Blood_ and he wonders how many times people asked _Sookie_ that same question before she told them to fuck off.

Jackson shakes his head frantically.

“What the hell are you on because whatever it is you’re taking too much of it.” Jackson says.

Derek steps forward and it takes all of Jackson’s self restraint to not cower away. He does allow himself the luxury to squirm a little when Derek leans in and inhales, starting from the base of Jackson’s throat and stopping by his ear.

“You don’t smell entirely human.” He says then stares Jackson down like Jackson would intentionally lie to him.

“And your social skills leave a lot to be desired. Seriously? Not entirely human, what are you certifiable? You don’t just go around sniffing people – it’s kind of rapey.”

Derek snorts around a tilted smile and fuck if that isn’t creepy.  “And yet you still haven’t left.” Derek says and Jackson raises both eyebrows, wonders exactly why he hasn’t but he doesn’t feel threatened, a little creeped out and a lot tired but not in any danger.

“You won’t hurt me.” Jackson says. Derek raises an eyebrow but offers no words and Jackson doesn’t want to tell Derek he can sense the other wont hurt him because it sounds weird and it would probably fuel Derek’s theory in thinking Jackson isn’t human.  “If you wanted to, you would have done it already.” Jackson concedes, leaning his weight against a small table beside him. It’s burnt and broken now, already pitifully creaking under the small amount of weight he leans onto it. He remembers what it looked like before – he’d seen it in his dreams. It was a pale brown oak side table which had a ruby red cloth thrown over it and a brown ceramic bowl everyone would throw their house and car keys into when they got home, but always without doubt they’d be other bits and bobs in there – a cough sweet, a hair grip, random take out menus.

 “Maybe I won’t but I could call the cops on you. I don’t think they’d look kindly upon you breaking and entering.” Derek supplies and Jackson snorts.

“I’ve been here before.”  Jackson says and wishes he could take the statement back because Derek looks angry.  “I’ve seen it – in my –in my dreams.” Jackson closes his eyes and shakes his head, his insomnia finally catching up with him. He’s exhausted and on edge and half of the time he says things and he doesn’t even realise that he’s spoken.

After a while he realises Derek hasn’t said anything so he opens his eyes and ventures a look at the older man.

 “You’ve dreamt of this place?” Derek questions.

Jackson nods, body stiff and nervous.  “It didn’t look like this in my dreams.  It was ...it was whole. There was a swing set in the backyard and not one but two - _two_ freakin _George Foreman_ grills in the kitchen.”

Jackson doesn’t know what he says but suddenly Derek looks like Death just knocked on his front door. He’s pale and his eyes are wide. The vulnerability vanishes from his face in an instant and he makes a guttural violent sound. Jackson jumps and when Derek tells him to leave, he does, he flees, almost trips down the porch steps in his haste to get the hell out of there.

/

Derek walks around his house aimlessly kicking desolate bits of wood around. He contemplates trying to clean the place up but he reminds himself that he’s not here to stay. This isn’t his home not anymore. He’s just here to find out who killed Laura then he’s going back to New York, or maybe he’ll venture somewhere else.  It’s his decision now and that’s the problem. He’s entirely alone with no idea about what he wants to do, where he wants to be, who he wants to be.

He needs to call Peter. Something he should have done two weeks ago. But whenever he speaks to Peter he feels fifteen again, feels vulnerable and young. But Peter has far more knowledge about werewolves then he does and no doubt he’ll have more information and advice for Derek on what’s going on in Beacon Hills.

He takes his phone out and stares at Peter’s name for several minutes before pressing call.

He considers hanging up after the phone rings six times and in a way he hopes Peter won’t answer so he doesn’t have to listen to Peter’s monotone drab voice because Derek’s the one who made his voice sound like that. Peter’s fun and spontaneous demeanour is gone all because of Derek and Derek doesn’t need that guilt, doesn’t need to be reminded of what he took away from Peter every time he hears his uncles voice.  Staying in this burnt home reminds Derek of his bad decisions well enough.

“Derek.”

Derek clears his throat.

“Uncle Peter.”

It’s silent for only seconds but it feels longer than that.

“How have you been? Has there been any news on Laura?”

“That’s actually what I called about. I think I might have a lead but I just needed some confirmation.” Derek supplies and listens to the sounds of shuffling on the other side of the phone as if Peter’s just put a newspaper down.

“What is it?” He asks.

“The memory sharing process. I just needed to know if...” Derek stops, rubs the curve of his palm against the back of his sweaty neck.

“What about it?” Peter coaxes.

“Wolves are the only ones who can share memories. Aren’t they?”

Peter’s silent for a moment.

“Is everything oaky Derek?”  

“I just need to know. Memories can only be shared and passed between two werewolves cant they?”

“That’s correct; we can’t share our memories with humans.  As werewolves we have a mental link that humans don’t.”

It’s the realisation there that makes Derek stop short. He had a feeling but how could he have not known. Jackson is a wolf or at least part wolf. Derek had smelt it on him but the memory links had confirmed it. Wolves cannot share their memories with humans only other wolves.  But surely Jackson should know what he is? He can’t be ignorant to the fact that he can sprout fangs and claws. But then again maybe he is. Derek will have to investigate.

“That’s all I needed to know. I’ll call you if there’s any news on Laura.” Derek rushes to end the phone call and is already lowering the phone when he hears Peter’s voice crackle through the tiny speaker.

_Look after yourself Derek._

 /

Jackson feels woozy. The half bottle of scotch he downed is affecting him but not enough that he remembers to stash it back beneath his bed, behind his shoe box.  It wouldn’t do to have his parents find it.

Even though he feels sick and tired he lies in bed and relays the earlier Lacrosse match in his head. Relays his pathetic attempts at getting past McCall. He tries to figure it out in his head, find ways in which he could have gotten around him. Different footwork. Sharper movements. He thinks and thinks and thinks, until his head aches and his eyes are burning.

He doesn’t remember falling asleep but he wakes when he hears his window click. His heads muggy so he takes a while to realise that the sound wasn’t just the wind. He doesn’t get time to contemplate it before a hand is covering his mouth and he’s being dragged out of bed.

He flails and kicks and shifts enough that the hand around his mouth slips down a little and with all his might he bites down on the thick fingers. He hears the person holding him from behind release a sound between a groan and a growl before there’s a sharp pain in the back of his head. Then he feels nothing.

When Jackson wakes he’s on a dirty hardwood floor with Derek kneeling above him. He shakes himself and pushes himself backwards only to press back into a wall.

“Kidnapping. Are you fucking kidding me?” Jackson spits, heart beating like crazy with wet angry eyes.

Derek doesn’t respond not in any way that’s rational. All he does is scoot back giving Jackson some room to breathe.

“My father is gonna prosecute your ass to jail so fast it’ll make your head spin you drug peddling psychopath.”

“Shut up.”

Jackson’s mouth snaps shut reluctantly and he watches as Derek slowly stands.

“You want to know what makes Scott so powerful. What makes us both powerful?” Derek asks, a dark tilt to his voice, secretly quiet.  Jackson nods in the affirmative, not entirely sure what he’s asking for.

It’s hard to describe what happens exactly, or what Jackson notices first. All he knows is that his heart ricochets somewhere between the time Derek’s fangs elongate and his eyes flash an inhuman blue.

Jackson stands slowly on shaky legs before he clears his throat.  “So definitely not drugs huh?”

Derek retracts his fangs but the hair and claws remain.

“There’s things we need to discuss.”  Derek informs and understatement much?

/

“So you’re a werewolf. And Scott’s a werewolf.” Jackson waits for Derek’s confirmative nod before he continues. “I knew it; I knew he couldn’t be better at Lacrosse than me without some hardcore stuff.” Jackson says around a grin and Derek rolls his eyes.

“That’s honestly all you’ve gotten out of this. You don’t have any questions about the supernatural or about our abilities?”

“A million and one.”  Jackson replies.

Derek makes a hand motion gesturing for Jackson to start.

“You said I’m like you. How?”  Jackson questions.

“Those dreams you’ve been having about this house. There not just dreams, there memories.  The day I confronted you in the school I passed them on from me to you. Only wolves can swap memories that way, which means you have werewolf blood but for some reason your abilities aren’t activated. This could be for a number of reasons.”

“Well how do I activate them?”

“I’ll teach you but first you have to do something for me.”

Jackson frowns. “That sounds inscrutably vague.”

“I told you about the Alpha.” Derek says.

 “The one that killed that girl in the woods.” Jackson recalls.

Derek nods.  “I want to bring him down and I can’t do that without your help...he seems to have some kind of affinity towards you.”

“How’d you gather that?” Jackson questions confusedly.

“He left you alive in the video store. He could have easily of killed you. You’re not a part of his pack. It doesn’t make sense that he would kill someone else but leave you alive.”

Jackson had never thought of it like that. He had been too scared out of his mind to even contemplate reason when a huge fucking wolf was prowling around near him, claws and nose at this neck. And now he realises how much it makes sense. He hadn’t been going crazy due to lack of sleep. Himself and Lydia really had seen a wolf that day.

“So if I help you find this Alpaca –“

“Alpha.” Derek corrects.

“ _Alpha_.” Jackson stresses with a roll of his eyes.  “You’ll help me activate my wolf. I can be as strong as you and Scott?”

“Yes.” Derek confirms.

Jackson smirks.

“Well then let’s get started.”

/

“That’s the fourth victim in three months.” Sherriff Stilinski states, running his fingers over his creased forehead. “What the hell is going on in this town?”

“You’ve got me. You know I used to think this town was a safe place. Now I’m not so sure. Those killings....god I’ve never seen anything like it.”  Michael, one of his men replies.

“You’re telling me but what I can’t figure out is the connection. I mean there’s gotta be something right. Something that connects all these people together but I just can’t see it. I just need one more piece of information...just one.” The Sherriff shares.

Michael lets out a bated breath, one hand running through his hair before he spots the time. It’s almost after eleven at night.  “Look John I gotta get home, Valerie’s gonna have my ass if I have any more late nights. I’ve barely got the energy to eat dinner when I get home let alone spend any time with the kids.” Michael explains apologetically and the Sherriff nods in understanding.

“Of course of course, sorry Michael...sometimes I forget you know? Go, go home to your wife and kids. I’ll see you tomorrow.” John promises.

Michael smiles.

“Thanks John and hey take it easy will you. We don’t want you wearing yourself out on this case. We’ll get them.”

John smiles back but it’s tired.

Michael leaves and John turns back to his paperwork.

Just one connection and everything will click into place. But what does Laura Hale have in common with the bus driver and the video store clerk.  John thinks until his eyes blur and he feels the beginnings of a headache coming on but nothing within the past few months links these people together.  Before he can crumble into a mess of frustration Kendra his deputy walks into the room and raises an eyebrow at him. She seems exasperated by him working so hard on this case but when she speaks she’s nothing but concerned.

“You’ve been here fifteen hours straight John.” She reminds softly and John sighs.

“People are dying and I’m so close to finding a pattern.”  He replies.

She steps forward and picks up one of his file folders before letting it drop back down again. “Well there’s no use in finding a pattern if you’re too exhausted to do anything about it – go home and rest.”

John leans back in his seat and yawns. When Kendra gives him a knowing look he tries to pass the yawn off for a cough. “Maybe you’re right.” He finally concedes.

He leans forward in order to pack away the paperwork strewn across his desk when Kendra speaks up.

“You’re a good cop John. You’ll figure this out just remember your no use to the town if you run yourself ragged. God knows this town could use some good news, I had to let Derek Hale know that his sisters body still isn’t available for release. Kid looked like he’d just been stabbed through the gut.”

John frowns in sympathy; everyone knows the Hale’s story. It’s a small town and the death of the Hale family was one of the biggest tragedies to ever happen in Beacon Hills. Hearing that just makes John want to solve this case even more.  Laura was one of Derek’s last remaining family members and it’s with that thought that things start slotting into place in John’s mind.  He’s been trying too hard to solve this case and maybe it’s a case of backtracking. He remembers the trial for the Hale fire, he was one of the officers who investigated it and he remembers Jerrison Myers being brought into the station for questioning. Laura was also involved in the fire. Two’s a coincidence but it could mean more. Maybe the video store clerk was involved in it too. With a new found vigour the Sherriff immediately gets on the phone and requests the file on the Hale arson case.

/

So the whole activating your wolf malarkey – not as glamorous as it sounds. It consists mostly of Derek kicking his ass and the older man trying to justify it by calling it _sparring_. Jackson’s always bruised by the end of it and aching but something about it feels right, fills him with a rush of adrenaline - one unlike he’s ever felt before.

Their sparring in front of the Hale house and Jackson manages to get a punch in and is too busy focusing on the residing pain that runs through his fist that he doesn’t block it when Derek grabs him around the middle, twists him and throws him to the ground. Jackson thumps down to the ground with a pained noise, his jaw snapping shut with an audible click.

“Fucker.” Jackson bites out and Derek leans back from him with an egotistical grin.  He stands up a minute later and doesn’t even lend Jackson a hand. Not only is he a sadist, he’s a rude one.

“Yeah don’t offer to help me up or anything.” Jackson grumbles as he gets to his feet, wincing silently at his protesting muscles.  Derek throws something through the air which collides with Jackson’s stomach. He lets out a soft ‘ _oof’_ hands going to his abdomen and clutching the bottle of water tightly. He doesn’t say thank you, he’s not the only one who can be un-polite.  He unscrews it quickly and takes a greedy gulp, throat muscles flexing as he downs his drink.

There are loads of things Jackson wants to know but since Derek revealed the whole werewolf thing they haven’t spoken much. All Jackson knows is that soon he’s going to be stronger and better and to him that’s all that matters. But somewhere in the back of his mind he’s itching to know Derek’s story. Derek said that he passed his memories onto Jackson so does that mean that Derek was in the house when it burnt down?

“Just spit it out will you?” Derek grumbles and Jackson snaps to attention, realises he’s been gazing at his water bottle for the past couple of minutes.

“Spit what out?” Jackson asks, voice clipped. Derek’s so god damned brash about everything and Jackson can’t help but to reciprocate.

“You clearly want to ask me something, you smell of indecision. It’s clogging up my senses and its distracting so just spit it out already.”

“Indecision?” Jackson frowns. “You can smell that?”

Derek nods. “Amongst other things.” He answers. “Now what did you want to ask me.”

Jackson looks down.  “The memory sharing uh..you said. You said that they passed on from you to me.” When Derek says nothing Jackson looks up and the older man confirms Jackson’s words with a nod of his head.

“Well I mean, the fire it happened to you didn’t it? Your family, they all died in a fire ten years ago.” Derek’s jaw tenses and Jackson can sense he’s pushed this too far, has said too much but he needs to know. There’s so much the papers and the memories didn’t answer and he just wants the blanks filled in. After feeling the deaths of all these people he feels like he deserves an answer.

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business.” Derek says and _no_ screw that because Jackson’s had to carry the burden of these fucked up dreams – _memories_ and the pain of the scratch marks on his neck and now he’s basically signed himself up for a war with a god damned Alpha all to obtain a bit more power so he can be as good as McCall.

“Look I deserve some answers and some respect okay? I’m helping you out here because you’re clearly not strong enough to go after this Alpha alone.” Jackson insults and barely has time to intake a startled breath before Derek’s got a hand wrapped around his throat and is shoving him back against a tree.

Jackson’s eyes go wide, his entire body going ram rod straight. He doesn’t attempt to remove Derek’s hands, he’s too terrified when the other man growls and leans forward pressing down harder against his throat.

“ _You_ doing _me_ a favour?” He spits. “Don’t be so bumptious. If I wanted to I could destroy you in a heartbeat. Don’t forget that it’s _me_ who told you about your wolf heritage. It’s _me_ that’s helping you to obtain it so before you start throwing threats around I suggest you figure out who exactly it is your threatening.” Derek finishes his words by letting his fangs loosen and Jackson can literally feel his blood rushing in his ears. The hold around his throat tightens to an almost unbearable pressure. When Derek snaps his hand away Jackson sinks to the ground and breaths in sudden desperate breaths, his own fingers going up to rub feeling back into his neck.

Once Jackson’s got enough air in his lungs he scowls, only for Derek’s benefit - he doesn’t want the werewolf to think he scares that easily even though it’s evident that he does.  Derek’s an asshole but at least he’s clear on why they’re both here. For power. Jackson needs him to flourish into a wolf and Derek needs him to stop the Alpha. Still it wouldn’t kill Derek to be civil with him.

“Come on.” Derek says, he reaches a hand down and Jackson flinches. Jackson looks up from the hand to Derek’s face but it’s still unreadable.  Jackson wraps his fingers around Derek’s and allows himself to be pulled up off of the ground.

“Be here at the same time tomorrow.” Derek tells him and Jackson shakes his head.

“I’ve got lacrosse practice tomorrow.” Jackson explains.

Derek’s walking back to his house when he turns to face Jackson, continuing to walk backwards.

“Not anymore you don’t.” Derek says with a shrug.

Jackson _hates_ him.

/

Jackson researches Lycanthropy but each website contains different information, different versions of myths. He’s only seen Derek sprout facial hair and claws but he wonders if there are other types of wolves - ones that can turn completely, you know, paws, fur the whole shebang.  After all they are shape shifters. Jackson likes to think of it as the ascent of man. Certain wolves are at different stages. Like Alpha’s can turn completely and beta’s are the downgraded version and Jackson well, he’s got the ability to turn he just hasn’t reached his complete ascension yet.   

He knows what being a werewolf brings – strength and speed but he’s not entirely sure of its origin. Of how it passes from one person to another. Most websites say through a bite or a scratch but others talk about bloodlines and then Jackson’s forced into wondering about his parents – his birth parents – were they werewolves? Or maybe they weren’t, maybe it skipped their generation and passed onto Jackson and that’s why they gave him up. He doesn’t want to think about it – can’t think about it so he goes to school and pretends like nothing’s wrong. The full moons tonight and Derek has requested his presence like Jackson doesn’t have anything better to do on a Friday night then meet a twenty something at the guy’s burnt out shell of a house.

He can tell the full moon’s having an effect on Scott because he’s acting like a grade A asshole on the field but he avoids Jackson so Jackson doesn’t bother with him until he tackles Danny. That’s the first strike and the second one comes in the form of Lydia Martin and a mishap with that god forsaken lip gloss she insists on wearing that Jackson really hates the taste of. He sees the look her and Scott send each other after he points out the state of her lip gloss and he’s so done with everything he can’t even find it in him to be angry – to be hurt. There’s too many more things for him to think about like being a werewolf so McCall can be co –captain, he can have Lydia because Jackson knows it’s only a matter of time before he obtains power and is able to surpass McCall.

/

When Jackson arrives at the Hale house that night its silent – too silent. It’s as if all of the wildlife has fled. Like they know there’s going to be wolves out tonight.

Derek steps out of his house in a pair of sweats and a tight vest top which Jackson’s sure is two sizes too small. Derek raises an eyebrow at him.

“You’re wearing that?” He questions , voice disbelieving  and obnoxious and Jackson looks down at his white silk shirt and designer jeans. Looks back up at Derek and shrugs.

“What’s wrong with that I’m wearing? It’s better than your bulk buy vests.” Jackson comments with a smirk.

“Well if you want to go running in that fine, see if I care. Just don’t come complaining to me when your five thousand dollar shoes get caked in mud.”

“Uh what now?  Running, you never said anything about running.” Jackson tells him and Derek puts on a faux puzzled face. “I didn’t?” He asks and Jackson wants to strangle him.

“No.” Jackson affirms with an angry headshake. “You didn’t.”

“Well, technically were going hunting.” Derek says and before Jackson gets a chance to protest Derek starts running.

“Try to keep up.” The werewolf calls back and Jackson swears under his breath before running after him.

His shoes were not designed for running and Jackson can feel blisters forming on his feet and vows to kick Derek’s ass once he tracks him down. He could have sworn he was only a couple minutes behind Derek but now he’s standing in the middle of the woods in the pitch black darkness. The air is chilly enough that every time he breaths, his exhalations come out as foggy breaths. He feels little moistures of rain falling from the sky and contemplates just turning around and going home so he can drink himself into an early sleep until he spots a claw mark in a tree to his left.

He narrows his eyes and inclines his head before taking steps towards it. Once he’s there he parts his fingers and runs them over the claw marks and tries to imagine what it would be like to have a set of claws strong enough to slice through almost any material. He thinks it would feel absolute.  Once Jackson moves his gaze away from the claw marks it’s like he’s seeing from a whole new vantage point. He can see where some leaves on the ground are scattered as if they were disturbed by someone rushing through them. He follows the path the leaves left behind and ends up by a small stream.

Once he’s there the trail scatters and he realises Derek could have gone anyway but when he shifts his foot and hears wood beneath his feet he sees a snapped twig. It’s broken sharply down the middle like the centre of someone’s boot pressed into it. Jackson follows that direction and ends up back at the Hale house where he sees Derek lounging on a rock nearby.  His arms are behind his head and when he hears Jackson approaching he sits up.

“What the hell was that?” Jackson asks annoyed. “You just let me wonder around in the woods. You do know there’s a psychotic Alpha on the loose right? _”_  

 

Derek rolls his eyes apparently at his wits end with Jackson’s dramatics.

 

“I wouldn’t have done this exercise if it wasn’t safe and if you truly felt in danger you could have left at anytime. You wanted to track me.”

 

“Track you?”

 

Derek nods. “It’s a viable aspect for wolves. We thrive on it. We use our brains and senses to track things.”

 

Suddenly it all clicks into place in Jackson’s head.

 

“You did this to try and activate my wolf?” Jackson asks and Derek nods.

 

“Huh.” The teen says slightly impressed but he still doesn’t get why Derek just doesn’t _use words,_ it would be a hell of a lot easier than just getting Jackson to meander through the woods like an ass.

 

“Were done for the night.” Derek says and Jackson nods eager to get back to his car. As he’s packing up his things he can’t help but to think about what other attributes would be heightened once he fully turns into a wolf. He knows the desire to track and hunt will grow. But also the need for a pack because wolves travel in packs. It’s in their nature and he wonders why Derek hasn’t found another one and what it must feel like to spend the full moon alone.  He shouldn’t feel bad for him because Derek treats him like shit but then Jackson thinks that how Derek must feel on the full moon is what Jackson feels like when there’s parent teacher conferences or birthdays. The feelings a strong intense loneliness and a bitter taste of fabrication.  It’s constant and impossible to ignore.  

 

Jackson frowns before placing his bag back into his car and reaching into the carrier bag in the backseat that’s got two bottles of water, a large bag of cool Doritos and several Twinkies in it.

 

He walks back into the house and smirks when Derek jumps slightly and his eyes widen in surprise when he spots Jackson still there.

 

“I said you could go.” Derek says and he says it _slowly_ like Jacksons confused or something.

 

Jackson rolls his eyes. “I know.” He informs.

 

“And you’re still here because?”

 

Jackson doesn’t answer him just throws the Doritos at Derek who catches it one handily.

He sits down on a crate and tries not to think about the a thousand and one parasites that could be clinging to it. He unscrews his bottle of water before taking a sip.

 

“So how was I at tracking?” He asks mostly because he wants to know how well he did but also because the awkward silence was beginning to grate on his nerves.

 

Derek walks over then sits down on a box opposite Jackson.

 

Derek shrugs. “You were okay.” He says before opening the bag of chips and eating one.

 

Jackson gapes.  “Just okay? I found you in like thirty minutes.”

 

“Forty nine.” Derek corrects and smirks when Jackson continues gaping.

 

Jackson huffs. “Well next time I’ll find you in ten.” He says and maybe he sounds petulant – but he doesn’t care.

 

Derek smiles indulgently. “I’ll hold you to that.” He says then tips the bag of chips forward silently offering them to Jackson.

 

/

Jackson goes back to the article about the Hale fire and reads a piece of information he had skipped on before and he doesn’t know how he managed to miss it.  His dad did work on the case, the legal paperwork on how the fire was caused.

 

Jackson wants answers and if he can’t get them from Derek or the memories he’s going to get them from his dad.

 

He comes in late from lacrosse practice, eats a protein bar and downs some orange juice before knocking tentatively on the door of his dad’s home office.

 

He hears a quiet sigh on the other end before a pen is placed down and he’s beckoned in.

 

“Jackson.” His dad greets. He sounds surprised and quietly suspicious like he’s not sure why Jackson would come and seek him out and Jackson wonders if he’s really that anti social with his parents that their shocked at the fact that he would come and talk to them. He ignores it however because he needs this information.

 

“Hi, I was just wondering if you weren’t too busy – if I could ask you a couple of questions.” Jackson asks.

 

“I’m never too busy for you.” David replies and Jackson swallows down the discomfort the blatant words of affection make him feel.

 

“I um..I’m doing a project at school about the history of the town and we have to talk about tragedies and I’m doing mine on the Hale fire and I figured since you were assigned that case you could tell me about it.”

 

His father looks shocked to say the least, and then he looked offended.

 

“Jackson are you sure that’s the subject with which you want to pursue. It seems a bit tasteless. The Hales were good people.”

 

Jackson raises his eyebrows.  “So you knew them?” He asks.

 

“It was a small town.” David replies.

 

“What were they like?” The teen queries.  

 

David pauses for a moment seemingly to collect his thoughts before he shakes his head.

 

“Why are you so interested?” His dad asks.

 

Jackson shrugs.  “Curiosity. I want to make sure I get a good grade on my project and I can’t do that if I don’t have all the facts.”

 

“I suppose so.” David concedes before rolling his desk chair over to the left corner of his office where there are several drawers. He opens one and thumbs through the files before pulling one out.

 

“The Hales were good people. Great in fact. They did charity work, they were wholesome and generous people. Something this town lacks now a days. It was decided the fire was arson and it was intended to kill all the people inside. Police found evidence of the place being barricaded from the outside.”  Jackson sways over to the file, feels like he’s on a gravitational pull. He pulls up a small stool and sits beside his father. David opens up the case file and shows Jackson several pieces of evidence from the day. He looks at the burnt black licks across the Hale house in the evidence photos and feels the heat of fire lashing across his skin. He closes his eyes and shudders.

 

“But what baffled the police the most was the strange substance strewn around the house, when they got there it was in a perfect circle around the expanse of the house.” David explains and Jackson frowns.

 

“What substance.”

 

“It was powered. It’s actually from a tree, a mountain ash tree, but there are no mountain ash trees in the surrounding area.”

 

Jackson looks at the photo David provides.

 

“Why would anyone want to do that to them?”  Jackson asks even though he knows. The mountain ash just confirmed his suspicions. It’s one of the only pieces of information Derek had told him. Mountain ash can barricade werewolves and other supernatural creatures. Whoever had attacked the Hales that night had known what they were and they had wanted them dead.

 

David sighs. “I don’t know but something tells me that the murders happening right now have something to do with the Hale fire.”

 

“What makes you say that?” Jackson wonders, tearing his eyes away from the evidence photos.

 

“During the investigation of the Hale fire no witnesses came forward that’s why to this day the case remains unsolved. Those who were arrested as potential accessories to the murders all had strict alibis. The people who were suspected of being accessories in the Hale murder have suddenly started disappearing.” David says and Jackson sits there shocked and wonders if Derek has noticed this pattern then his blood runs cold because he wonders if Derek’s the one who’s been killing them.

 

Maybe he thinks they deserve to be punished for helping kill his family. Regardless whoever instigated the fire must have been one tough son of a bitch to make sure all the people suspected of causing the fire kept quiet.

 

Looking at their files Jackson can see the people weren’t above board. They were petty criminals, ones that looked desperate enough to do anything given the right price.

 

Jackson finally has more answers but he doesn’t know if they’re the ones he wanted.

 

/

 

Derek and Jackson are sparring and Jackson can already feel where bruises are forming all over his body. He feels sore but he can’t seem to concentrate. He can’t get the arson case out of his head and he doesn’t know whether or not to mention it to Derek, to tell him his dad’s theories. He’s not paying attention and isn’t prepared to block the punch aimed at his face. It hurts like hell and the pain only registers when he’s already falling down to the ground.

 

Derek huffs a growl as he buries a heavy hand into the back of Jackson’s hoody and hauls him up. Jackson roughly shrugs Derek off before readjusting his hoody.

 

“What’s wrong with you?” Derek asks, he doesn’t sound concerned just annoyed. Jackson doesn’t know why he bothered asking.

 

“Nothing.” Jackson spits.  This time Jackson can’t shrug off Derek’s hold or ignore the penetrative glare of his stare.  

 

“Look I don’t have time for your teenage tantrums. What’s wrong?”  Derek says and Jackson glares even though his hearts beating hard in his chest.

 

“My father showed me a case file – _your_ case file - the one from the fire.” Derek goes pale, his hand tightening around Jackson’s shoulder.  “He said that all of the people who were suspected of starting the fire are the ones who’ve been killed lately.” Jackson explains.

 

“And?” Derek grinds out.

 

Jackson narrows his eyes, attempts to get out of Derek’s grip. “ _And._ Did you kill them? Maybe this whole Alpha thing is something you just made up to keep the attention away from you, so you could get revenge on the people that killed your family.”

 

“You do understand that one of the people recently murdered was my _sister_.” Derek says voice low.

Jackson opens his mouth but no words come out. He did know but he didn’t think. The information that his dad showed him made it easy to assume that Derek would have been the one who was killing all those people. It’s not as if he doesn’t have the resources with which to do it.

 

“Are you saying that you believe I could have killed my own sister, my own flesh and blood?” Derek growls, hand shaking Jackson when the teen doesn’t answer. Jackson squeezes his eyes shut, wincing silently.

 

“Do you?” Derek shouts, claws unsheathing, his anger taking over.  Jackson hisses, jerks against the older man’s hold.

 

“You’re hurting me.” Jackson informs uselessly. It doesn’t seem like Derek cares.  

 

“What am I supposed to think? You’re a god damned werewolf and all of these people died of supposed animal attacks. All of these people were in some way involved in the fire that destroyed your entire world.  I wouldn’t put anything past anyone who’s been through something like that.  At least I’m trying to figure out what happened. What are you doing, apart from assaulting me every chance you get.  Assaulting someone who by the way is trying to help you!” The teen angrily says.

 

Derek’s claws break away from his skin and Jackson sucks in a relieved breath, feels blood drip down his arm.

 

Derek snorts.  “Don’t play the martyr Jackson, it doesn’t suit you.  Don’t pretend like your helping me for any other reason than your need to be preeminent.”  

 

Jackson looks away because he knows it’s true and usually he wouldn’t care if people knew that. Everyone knows that about him.  He strives to be better – to be the best. He’s proud of that fact but this time it makes him feel bad, like for once there’s something more important than him. He doesn’t like the feeling.

 

Jackson clenches his jaw so hard his teeth begin to hurt. Neither him nor Derek say anything for a while and the longer he stands here the more irritated he gets.  He doesn’t want to walk away first because then he’ll look weak, look like he’s the one who’s done something wrong. But he’s done nothing wrong. He was just curious and rightly so. Derek isn’t exactly the sit down and talk it through type so can he blame Jackson for assuming the worst of him?

 

“Are you honestly telling me that you hadn’t noticed the pattern? You hadn’t realised that the people getting murdered are the ones that were suspected of killing your family?”

Jackson tries not to feel guilty about the way Derek grimaces at the mention of his family. He stills feels it.

 

Derek looks down and shakes his head minutely. “No.” He answers.

 

Jackson doesn’t know how he can tell Derek’s not lying. The teen nods slowly. “Okay. I believe you.”

 

Derek snaps his head up so quickly Jackson barely holds back a surprised twitch. Derek’s eyes are wide and he looks shocked by the others words.  Jackson doesn’t want to think too closely on the weight of his words, nor the weight of Derek’s stare.

 

“But you have to consider the fact that someone you might know is killing these people. That this Alpha is killing them because of what they did to _you_.” Jackson says before walking over to his car which is parked about ten feet away.

 

He reaches into his glove box and removes the case file on the Hale fire. He had sneaked into his dad’s office after he’d gone to sleep and taken it. He doesn’t want to think of what the consequences could be if his dad finds out but he made a deal with Derek and he’s going to do everything he can to uphold his end of the bargain. Derek’s helping him to awaken his wolf and he’s going to help him catch the man who killed Derek’s sister.

 

He walks back over and hands the files to Derek. He doesn’t expect a thank you and isn’t surprised when he doesn’t get one, what he is surprised about however is Derek beckoning him into the Hale house. He doesn’t use words so much as offer odd grunts and huffs of exhalation. Jackson follows and does his fair share of sighing and eye rolling. He’s used to being brash and giving attitude, it’s a regular occurrence for him. What he isn’t prepared for however is Derek dabbing some antiseptic onto the claw marks Derek left on his shoulder and covering them with a dressing.  

 

He looks up at Derek; mouth opened slightly, the other’s fingers resting over the dressing. His skin feels hot.  He looks away.

 

“I should go. Don’t keep those case files for too long. If my father notices there missing, he’ll tear me a new one.” Derek nods and Jackson grabs his jacket from where it was laid out beside him before getting up to leave.

 

He’s by the living room door when Derek calls his name.

 

Jackson turns around, quirking a questioning eyebrow. “Yeah?”

 

Derek opens his mouth but pauses mid way through, stops and shakes his head.

 

“Be here at the same time tomorrow.”

 

Jackson doesn’t know what he was expecting Derek to say but it wasn’t that. He also doesn’t know why he feels disappointed.

 

/

Jackson’s days pass by in a blur. It’s a constant stream of school, lacrosse, swimming, sparring sessions with Derek and catching a bare minimum of five hours of sleep at night. The Alpha hasn’t made any moves since the video store clerk which Derek said is both a good and a bad thing. Bad because they don’t have any fresh leads and no way to track him and good because they’re in no way ready to confront the Alpha considering Jackson shows no signs of becoming a werewolf anytime soon.

 

It’s almost been two months of constant training and yet nothing’s happened. Jackson doesn’t feel any different. He feels stronger but that’s because he’s been sparring but there’s nothing supernatural about his strength.  His senses aren’t any keener and his frustration is building because if the Alpha strikes again he wants to be ready to help take him down.

 

Himself and Derek have gone over the case files for the fire and there are two other people that were involved in the court case that still live in Beacon Hills, there was one other but they moved away right after the fire because you know that’s not suspicious at all. Sense the sarcasm.

 

Derek said that Sherriff Stilinski of all the people is keeping an eye on the two former suspects. It seems that even though Scott and Derek have a reluctant acquaintance with one another they both don’t want any more blood spilt in Beacon Hills unless it’s the Alpha’s. So Scott had shared his theory on the murderer going after those who were involved with the Hale fire with Stiles’ dad. Therefore the Sherriff has been keeping a watchful eye on them. It was supposed to give Derek more time to train Jackson except that times gone to waste because nothing’s happening and Derek doesn’t know why.

 

They’ve tried almost everything to try and draw out the wolf within Jackson.  Tracking. Sparring. Hunting. They even tried intimidation which consisted of Derek transforming and growling at him in the hopes that Jackson’s werewolf would react to the threat. All Jackson did was waft his hand back and forth and grimace claiming Derek had ‘dog breath’. They’d gone for a run through the woods after and Derek had pushed Jackson into the lake. He almost felt bad until Jackson threw a small rock at him in retaliation.  It was worth it though because Derek had caught it in one hand and crushed it within his palm. Jackson’s face was priceless.

 

 The only thing they haven’t tried is scenting and the thought makes Derek uncomfortable because scenting is...intimate.  Derek hasn’t done it in a long time. When his family was still alive, they’d pile together and soak up the feeling of warmth and pack. Would brush their noses into each other’s necks or armpits and it would make him feel complete, make him feel at home.

 

After they died himself and Laura didn’t indulge in scenting. It felt awkward between them and sometimes Derek wonders if Laura knew that the deaths of their family was his fault. Maybe that’s why she never scented him, why she never offered the comfort of her scent to him.

 

Scenting is their last viable option and if this doesn’t work then Derek doesn’t know what he’s going to do. As more time passes the trail for the Alpha turns cold and Derek has to catch him – has to avenge his sister’s death.  Because without revenge he has nothing.  He’s lost everything, his anger is the only thing keeping him going and he’s almost afraid of what he’s going to do if the object of his anger disappears.

 

/

There’s not anywhere convenient or comfortable to sit in the Hale house so Jackson stands in the middle of the living room. His neck feels strained at the angle in which he’s holding it but he doesn’t move just leaves his head tilted to the side, the tanned expanse of his throat bared to Derek.

When Derek leans in and butts his nose against his collarbone Jackson’s hand curls into a lose fist over his pant leg.

“Umm...this is uh scenting right?” He queries even though it’s something they’ve discussed before. His head moves further to the side when Derek noses up his neck to just below his ear.

“Yes.” Derek answers, lips close enough that Jackson can feel the whispers of his breath against his skin.

Derek flattens his nose against the teen’s neck and Jackson freezes, hand making an abortive movement toward the other man. 

Derek pulls back with a sigh. “We don’t have to do this if it makes you uncomfortable.”

“I’m not uncomfortable.” Jackson lies and Derek gives him a knowing look, raises an eyebrow.

“You keep forgetting I can hear your heartbeat.”

Jackson rolls his eyes. “Okay so I’m not used to another guy intimately sniffing me but you said this could help with activating my wolf side right?”

“Nothing else has seemed to work so far.” Derek points out.

“Ever the optimist.” Jackson grumbles even though he knows it’s true.  They have tried everything Derek has suggested. Things that could call out to the wolf within him and bring it to the surface but nothing has worked and Jackson wants this so badly and everything that comes with it. The power, the security, the feeling of complete and utter absolution.  The blood of an ancient supernatural creature thrums through his veins and Jackson wants to revel in it and the way it will push his body and mind to new levels of physical and mental endurance.  So if this scenting or whatever can help him get that than he’s willing to try.

He curls his fingers into the front of Derek’s shirt before pulling him forward, trying to ignore the way their knees bump and stay pressed together. Then Jacksons leaning up the tip of his nose pressing into the side of Derek’s neck.

“What are you doing?” Derek sounds nothing but curious regardless Jackson feels his face heating up.

“Scenting you?” He says uncertainly and Derek nods before curving his head down and Jackson briefly thinks that what they’re doing is creepily close to a hug. Derek’s nose is back against his neck and Jackson slowly moves his head from side to side. Derek makes a low grumbling sound and thinking he’s done something wrong Jackson goes to pull back until Derek mumbles words low against his pulse point. “Feels good.” Jackson’s eyes widen slightly in surprise before a warmth shudders up through his chest. He skims his nose back and forth again oblivious to the hand he’s kept curled around Derek’s t –shirt.

/


	2. Pandemonium

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So guys I feel like I’m dying. Just had a super long shift at work then came home to finish up the second chapter. My eyes feel like they’re on fire. Anywho I hope you like the second installment of the story. 
> 
> I have no Beta so any and all mistakes are mine. 
> 
> Enjoy and don’t forget to review ! 
> 
> Dolorous Doll 
> 
> X

Jackson has always tried his hardest to strive. To be this perfect flawless being. There’s nothing wrong with that. It’s an aspiration. They always say it’s good to have them, to have a goal that you’re aiming towards but in Jackson’s case his goal - this need to please - can be seen as unhealthy, boarding on obsessive compulsive.

He doesn’t know when it started, maybe when he found out he was adopted but its deep seeded and it never alleviates. No matter what he does, no matter what club or class he’s the top of.  But Jackson doesn’t just want to flourish academically he wants to flourish socially. That’s why he’s the jock, why he has a gorgeous girlfriend by his side.  But every time he touches her, every time he kisses and tastes her he feels off putted because he knows Scott’s touched her.

There is a part of him that cares about Lydia and probably always will however he can’t help but to think about what he did wrong. What did he do to make her cheat on him? Could he have done something differently? Jackson hates failing but he’s failed their relationship and he can’t fix it. He’s not really sure if he wants to.  So he’s going to end it. He needs to get rid of the dead weight in his life and prepare himself to become a werewolf – prepare himself for excellence.

Lydia handles the breakup with the same amount of grace and denigration she treats everything. Jackson’s glad she does, he would have been disappointed if she’d have acted any other way.

Danny questions him about the breakup, the other teen looking dejected and almost pitying.

“I got bored.” Jackson says flippantly, picking a chip off of his lunch tray and eating it.

“Of the same girl you’ve been dating for the past two years. The only other person in this town who knows you as well as I do.” Danny quips. Jackson remains quiet, deciding to pick at his utensils and stare down at his food tray. He’s not even hungry anymore.

“Jackson?”  Danny presses.

“Just leave it Danny!” Jackson shouts, louder than intended, enough for him to get looks from other students in the cafeteria.

He sneers at them. “What?” He growls, tutting and scowling when their eyes skitter away from him.

“Jackson...” Danny starts, softer this time.  Jackson closes his eyes.  “I said don’t start-“

“I’m worried about you.” Danny interrupts. “You’ve been distant lately. I feel like we haven’t spoken, you know if there’s something wrong you can talk to me.”

“I’m not a god damned charity case and I don’t need a therapist so back off.” Jackson snaps as he gets up from the table pretending he can’t hear Danny’s resigned sad sigh as he does so.  

/

Jackson doesn’t know what he’s more angry about -the fact that he’s not a werewolf yet or the fact that his best friend managed to see that Jackson’s not okay without Jackson physically telling him.

He cares about Lydia sure but he’s glad he broke up with her. He doesn’t know why he feels shitty but the fact that Danny noticed shows that this bravado Jackson’s built for himself is cracking and he’s terrified because if someone sees beneath it – it’s just- it doesn’t bear to think about.

So because of these circumstances he’s pissed when he gets to Derek’s. They spar and Jackson pulls out all the dirty moves he knows, because he wants Derek to hurt him maybe then he can concentrate on the physical pain and not this insistent pulsing feeling of _emptiness_ inside of him.

 He’s exhausted by the end of it, face flushed red and body sweating. The air is cold, the wind biting into the overbearing heat of his skin.

“You’re getting better.” Derek comments and Jackson scoffs.

“I barely got a hit in.”

“Better than nothing.” The older man replies.

Jackson doesn’t comment just stands and waits.

It’s become a routine of sorts for them to spar then to scent each other. It’s still a bit too intimate for Jackson but a weird part of him, something deep down preens at the idea of scenting, welcomes it even.

Like most things Jackson’s become accustomed to ignoring it. To giving it the right amount of attention but not too much. He doesn’t know if it’s something to do with the wolf or just Derek but when Derek’s around Jackson feels calmer, feels instantly submissive as if he can turn to Derek with a problem and Derek will magically have the answer.

Derek strides forward, steps purposeful and almost robotic. His movements are always precise, right up until the moment that he actually catches Jackson’s scent. Once he does all of his movements are based on instinct. Jackson much prefers that because it makes him feel less awkward. He doesn’t feel like a task that needs completing then, he actually feels like a human being.

Jackson tips his head to the side and closes his eyes as Derek curls his fingers around Jackson’s wrist and noses at his sweaty neck. Jackson’s mouth is open slightly; pink lips parted allowing his breaths to fall out.

“You smell frustrated.”

Jackson snorts but keeps his eyes shut. “Thanks for the update.” He says.

The teen turns his head and in turn noses at Derek’s neck. The change of position brings Derek’s face to his clavicle.

“I have a theory.” Derek tells him.

“Yeah.” Jackson says distractedly, exhaling when Derek nuzzles at his shoulder, the roughness of his stubble creating a light burning sensation over Jackson’s skin.

“We’ve tried everything to bring your wolf to the surface and yet nothings worked. I think there may be something permitting that part of yourself from manifesting, something from your past maybe.”

There are a lot of things from Jackson’s past that he doesn’t want to think about but he doesn’t see how anything could stop him from wanting to become a werewolf.

“There’s nothing.” He says. The fingers around his wrist tighten.

“You’re heart just skipped a beat.” Derek says and Jackson opens his eyes.

“I’m not lying.” He says sounding offended.

Derek pulls back enough to look down at him.

“You might not think you are, but you are. There must be something that’s happened that’s permitting you from letting your wolf come to the surface. It might have happened such a long time ago that you don’t even remember but I have a way in which we can find out what’s blocking you from ascending.”

Jackson frowns, worried. “How?”

“I shared my memories with you but it can go both ways. You can share yours with me. I can get inside of your head and figure out what’s stopping your change.”

Jackson shakes his head. “No offense but I don’t want you routing around in my head. My memories are private.”

 “You lost the right to your privacy the moment you agreed to help me.” Derek says and Jackson gapes. “This isn’t a game Jackson. My sister is dead and so are many others. If your theories correct and the Alpha’s going after those who were involved in the fire what makes you think he won’t go after your dad. After all your dad was the one who dealt with the legal affairs when it came to the arson attack.”

Jackson scowls angrily. “Don’t you dare bring my dad into this.” Jackson can’t believe he ever felt pity for Derek, had ever thought that they had something in common because they both felt out of place because of their lack of family. Now he just wants to punch Derek in the face and for the other to actually feel it.

“Jackson you either let me do this willingly or I’ll use force. This isn’t just about you. I need to find my sisters killer.”

“By routing around in my inner most thoughts without my consent. How about no you fucking jerkwad.” Jackson seethes before going to turn away.

He can’t describe what Derek does. He can’t see. All he feels is pain, there isn’t a hot white flash of it. It’s constant and pulsing.  Memories, _his memories_ flash beneath his eyelids- when did he close his eyes?

_He’s in fourth grade by the sandpit the first time he meets Lydia Rebecca Martin. Her eyes are wide and green, her red hair fiery and wavy, messy from the windy day._

_She’s trying to play in the sandpit but Greenburg’s being a jerk and saying that she can’t because she’s a girl._

_Jackson’s not expecting her to grab a mini spade and smash Greenburg’s pathetic one tier sandcastle down and announce that if you’re going to do something you should at least do it right. Greenburg cries for an hour over what he must have seen as an architectural masterpiece._

_Jackson watched as Lydia built castle over castle until she had a five tier mansion made out of sand. He watched as she looked around for a decoration to place on top of her castle to complete her house._

_He sees a small white and black pebble in the sand and hastily picks it up before trudging over to her and presenting it in both hands._

_She looks down at the pebble and quirks a brow before picking it up with delicate fingers and placing it on top of the castle._

_“It looks cool.”  Jackson says._

_Lydia huffs like she’s amused. “Of course it is, I made it.”_

_Jackson smiles. “I’m Jackson.”  He introduces._

_Lydia turns to face him and nods._

_“Lydia Rebecca Martin.”_

_All Jackson can think is that that’s a pretty name._

_“Want to play?” She asks and Jackson nods enthusiastically before plonking down beside her._

_She hands him a spade and tells him to make an extension in their house. Jackson has no idea what an extension is so he just digs a fort around the castle and tells her that if Greenburg tries to kick her out of the sandbox again they can throw him in there._

_She smiles and tells him that one day their going to get married and he can build her a real fort, one where they can throw all the bad people inside._

Jackson’s sure he’s making some type of noise but he’s not sure what it is.  After the day he’s had the memories painful. He wants to go back, back to a time when things were easier, when he didn’t have so much to prove. When life was simple. He makes a frustrated desperate sound and tries to pull away from Derek, away from reliving these memories but he’s just gripped tighter then pulled back into another memory.

_Jackson’s six years old when his father takes him to the park to throw a baseball around. He’s catching perfectly on the first go and the feeling when he catches the ball is indescribable. The way the weight of it feels heavy and light all at once. The sound of the ball as it whips through the air._

_The most satisfying thing however is the look on his father’s face as Jackson catches ball after ball, no matter how far his father throws it, or how high or low, how fast or slow. Jacksons a fast learner and the look of pride on his father’s face is unforgettable, makes him feel happy and useful._

_They stop for lunch and his father smiles at him over his drink of iced tea, ruffles Jackson’s hair and tells him that one day he’s going to make it to the big leagues, is going to carry the Whittemore name with pride._

“Derek, stop!” He shouts, angrily desperate.  He hears Derek shush him and he hates that he began to trust him, put enough faith in him to give Derek his father’s case files, trusted him enough to let Derek scent him. He feels sick.

_This is the first house party Jackson’s ever been to. But Danny’s parents are out of town and he’s just turned fourteen so he took it upon himself to organise the most kick ass party ever because Danny’s his best friend and it’s like a rite of passage - you’re parents go away and you have to take full advantage of the situation._

_They raid Danny’s parent’s alcohol cabinet and sneak out what they can. They fill the vodka bottles up the rest of the way with water and hope that Danny’s parents can’t tell the difference._

_Jackson ends up getting way too drunk at this age he’s unaware of his alcohol tolerance or lack thereof. His coordination’s messy and he ends up heavily leaning against Danny as his friend helps him hobble up to the toilet where he just about catches the bowl before he empties the contents of his stomach._

_Through the acidic thick taste in his mouth he can feel himself crying, wet tears spilling over his numb face._

_He hears Danny laugh a little, it’s quiet and affectionate. He places a hand onto Jackson’s shoulder before rubbing briefly._

_“That’s it Jacks, get it all out. “ He coaxes._

_Jackson moans pitifully. His heads shoved half way down the bowl of the toilet and he knows he’s going to wake up and regret that tomorrow morning._

_“M,sorry.” He mumbles as Danny gently pulls at his shoulder moving Jackson away from the toilet to help him lean back against a wall._

_Danny flushes the toilet with a grimace before handing Jackson a tissue that he uses to wipe around his mouth._

_“Don’t be sorry, you threw up. It happens. This has literally been the best birthday ever so don’t even worry about it.”_

_Jackson tries to smile but it wavers._

_Danny frowns._

_“What’s wrong?”_

_“I just wanted to forget.” Jackson says and if possible Danny’s frown deepens even further before he kneels down._

_“Forget what?”_

_This was the first time Jackson ever told anyone he was adopted. The first and only time he showed weakness. The first and only time he allowed himself to cry over it. Allowed himself to be angry and sad over a family he never knew, over a family who never wanted him.  Allowed himself to mourn something that other people take for granted._

When Jackson comes back to himself, his eyes are blurry and his heart feels like it’s lodged in his throat.

When he looks up Derek’s staring back at him, he doesn’t look the least bit guilty.

“That’s what’s holding you back.”  Derek tells him and Jackson doesn’t care if it’ll hurt, he lurches forward and punches Derek. Derek’s head snaps to the side and it’s the single most satisfying thing Jackson’s ever seen.

When Derek turns to him his face is thunderous but Jackson can’t even find it within himself to feel scared, he’s too humiliated.

“I did this to help you Jackson. Now you know what’s stopping you from turning you can fix it.”

Jackson scoffs humourlessly, sniffles pathetically.  “You did this for yourself. Don’t play the martyr Derek. It doesn’t suit you.” Jackson repeats Derek’s words, the ones he spoke just over two months ago. He doesn’t feel any satisfaction when Derek’s face drops.  He thinks that’s the most pathetic thing of all.

Jackson flees the Hale house and he thinks it must be a testimony to how angry he was because Derek just lets him.

Jackson had headed back home long enough to grab the bottle of scotch his mum keeps in the back of the kitchen drawer, the one she thinks Jackson doesn’t know about. He takes it and drives back out to the woods, taking refuge in the part of the woods that’s a good ways away from the Hale House.

He drinks straight from the bottle and has to fight back a gag at every swallow. The drinks strong, and warm from being shoved at the back of the cupboard.

The alcohol burns through his system slowly and he feels himself gradually getting more and more drunk until the drink in the bottles a large ways down and his heads fuzzy. His movements are sluggish and he kicks his foot out enough to push himself against the ground. He stares up into the sky, watching as the warm oranges in the sky filter through to a midnight black.

The stars are bright tonight and Jackson closes his eyes and lets the quiet but noticeable noises of the forest lull him.

He’s riding on the edges of sleep when he hears the noise. A whip of air and the succession of four quick thumps against the ground.  His eyes snap open as he sits up much too quickly for his drink addled brain to comprehend.

Jackson can feel his skin pepper with gooseflesh, the feeling of eyes on him making him uneasy. He presses his hands into the ground and pushes himself up further, his wrist bashing into the bottle of scotch laid out on the ground beside him.

There’s a rustle coming from the bushes right in front of him and Jackson grabs the bottle as a make shift weapon.

He wonders for a moment how much he drank when the leaves on the bush part and a woman walks through, a _hot_ woman.  Her legs are long and slim, fitted in tight dark denim and a black leather jacket.  She’s got long curly dirty blonde locks and when she catches his eye her eyes widen before her arm shifts quickly. He looks down but whatever she was holding is already hidden away.

She smiles, it looks devious.

“What’s a cute little thing like you doing out here all alone?” She asks and Jackson smirks.

“Not alone anymore.” He says and she laughs, sharp and abrupt.

“Oh I like you.” She murmurs. The leaves rustle again and she snaps out of her reverie. Her hand darts to her hip where Jackson sees a glimmer of metal and it looks like a gun but it can’t be. Jackson blinks rapidly but by then she’s walking away.

“You should stay out of the woods kid, there’s all sorts of things out here at night.” She warns, the words seem playful but Jackson can sense an underlying threat to her words.

He frowns. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

She winks and then she’s gone.

After she’s gone it’s too quiet and Jackson gets that same uneasy feeling he had before. As if someone – _something’s_ watching him.

There’s a rough huffing sound coming from his right, heavy pants and Jackson jaggedly moves his head in that direction. His heart stops cold in his chest. Hidden amongst the dark are two bright red eyes. The same red from the video store. Jackson’s heart ricochets in his chest.

When the red eyes lunge forward Jackson catches a glimpse of black fur and terrifyingly sharp teeth. He rushes up to his feet and trips over them in his haste to run away.

He daren’t look behind him but he can feel the creature, the werewolf, the freaking huge Alpha chasing him. Its paws beating into the earth, shaking the ground beneath him.  

He screams, terrified before he starts running towards Derek’s house. It’s the only thing he can think to do. Derek’s not strong enough to kill the Alpha but he’s a hell of a lot stronger than Jackson.

Jackson stumbles his way through the woods, feet catching on stray branches every once in a while. He’s uncoordinated because of the alcohol and soon he can feel his lungs burning and his eyes watering with exhaustion.

No matter how fast he runs though he can still hear the Alpha behind him. He pushes himself further though and carries on running until the tendons in his legs feel over stretched. 

The wolf howls – loud but it doesn’t sound angry it sounds agonised and Jackson frowns, feet faltering because that wasn’t a threatening sound. Apparently though sound doesn’t count for much because a moment later Jackson feels a huge paw beat down across his back, claws scratching down from his left shoulder blade across to the other side of his back.

He shouts in pain and collapses to the floor. He barely has time to scramble onto his back before the Alpha’s charging for him.

He shuts his eyes and prepares himself for the pain but it doesn’t come. He opens his eyes and looks up to see Derek jumping over him, claws unsheathed and fangs out as he lands just before Jackson, blocking the Alpha’s path.

Derek eyes flash blue and he growls and that – _that_ was a threatening sound. The Alpha growls back, pushes itself onto its hind legs before Derek charges at it.

They move too fast for Jackson’s eyes to track but he can hear Derek’s angry shouts and growls, his incoherent noises and words.  Jackson can’t even begin to imagine how he must be feeling; his sister’s killer is right before him.

They both roll on the ground and stop in front of Jackson. He catches a glimpse of Derek and he’s completely uninjured. Jackson frowns in confusion because if what Derek told him was correct this Alpha is about a hundred times more powerful then Derek yet Derek doesn’t have so much as a scratch on him and Jackson can see the Alpha bleeding from its abdomen.

“Derek ! Derek, stop!” Jackson shouts because something here doesn’t make sense.

Derek doesn’t listen though and Jackson can’t say he isn’t surprised.

Just then though the woman from before appears out of the woods and Jackson’s drunken suspicions are confirmed when she pulls out a gun and aims it straight at Derek.

When she pulls the trigger Jackson’s ears pop and a harsh loud ringing runs through them. His hands shoot up to cover his ears, trying to soothe the echoing ache going through them.

Jackson doesn’t quite believe what happens next. The women pulls at a piece of thread from around her neck and continues pulling until a whistle peeks out then she brings it to her lips and blows. The moment she does the Alpha, the feral, crazed Alpha goes _still._ It’s like it’s under some sort of spell. It stops moving, just hunches on the ground and waits.

Jackson looks at the woman and she locks eyes with him, this time she doesn’t look playful and flirty she looks calculating.

She doesn’t aim her gun at him so he takes the opportunity whiles he can and jumps up, running for Derek who’s clutching at his breastbone where the woman’s bullet hit him.

“You’re bleeding, we’ve gotta go, we’ve gotta go. Shit shit, fuck.” 

Derek accepts his help and they begin running away.

They don’t stop running until they get to the Hale house where Derek tells Jackson to get into his car.

He does and almost passes out when he watches Derek drive one handily whiles he uses the other to pull the bullet out of the meat of his pectoral.  He can hear Derek’s hand squelching through blood and muscle and yeah he’s definitely gonna have nightmares for weeks.

Jackson drops his head between his knees in the passenger seat, lifts up one hand and presses it against the dashboard in order to keep his shaking body still. Derek’s driving like a maniac and every so often the car jostles him but he thinks that if he sits up right he’s going to throw up.

He wants to know where they are but can’t move just yet.  Derek isn’t driving as hastily now though so Jackson assumes they must be a little safer than they were five minutes ago.

“I can’t stop shaking.” He says and Derek makes an affirmative sound like he knows the feeling.

“Adrenaline.” Derek identifies. Before Jackson can ask him how to make it stop Derek talks.

“Just keep breathing.”

Jackson wants to tell Derek he doesn’t think he can. He tries to focus on the woman in the woods and the Alpha- their interactions were ominous. There was something going on there that Jackson can’t quite identify. It had looked like she was controlling the Alpha but how was that even possible? And if it was why would she be getting it to kill those who hurt Derek’s family?

It’s infuriatingly puzzling and trying to figure it out distracts Jackson from the unsettling fact that he almost _died._

He slowly sits up, shutting his eyes and wincing when he feels the tight skin around the incisions on his back pull. Oh god, the Alpha scratched him. He’s going to have to get stitches.  He carries on sitting up until he can look out through the passenger side window.

Their driving down the road leading towards Jackson’s house.

“Where are we going?” He asks and hopes Derek doesn’t confirm his suspicions.

“Your house.” Suspicions confirmed.  

“What! My parents are home.” Jackson startles and Derek exhales heavily through his nostrils.

“I’m sorry do you have a safe house we can get to, somewhere where we can fix your back before you pass out from blood loss, because I sure as hell don’t.”

Jackson scowls. “I get it; no need to show me your undying love for sarcasm.” The teen says.

When they pull up to his house Jackson’s back is tingling and he hisses when the material of his jacket pulls at the cuts on his back.

Derek slams the car door shut behind him and Jackson turns around to glare at him silently communicating with a harsh rise of his eyebrows that _Derek is an idiot_. Derek’s eyebrows do some weird thing– he should know better than to try and beat Derek at eyebrow aerobics.  He ends up scowling and batting a hand towards Derek before turning away.

They get into the house without a hitch. It’s late so his parents are both fast asleep.  Jackson indicates his bedroom door to Derek and once the werewolf enters it he quickly goes to the bathroom and gets the first aid kit before returning to his room.

“So that was an Alpha huh?” Jackson asks, trying for light but Derek remains silent, mouth set into a firm line.

“Take off your shirt.” He says and Jackson rolls his eyes before attempting just that. It hurts too much though, some of his blood has dried and the material of his top is sticking to his flesh. Every time he tries to take the top off it pulls at the fleshy bits of skin that were sliced open by the Alpha.

“You mind?” Derek asks indicating towards Jackson’s T with one hand and when Jackson shakes his head Derek steps over to him, unsheathes his claws and shreds the teen’s top. It falls off of him, the moves effective but that top cost him two hundred bucks. What a freakin waste of money.

Jackson turns around, one hand curled around his computer desk as Derek starts dabbing antiseptic over the scratches.

“So I guess your theory was wrong.  The Alpha definitely doesn’t have a problem with hurting me.” Jackson shares and Derek grunts.

“I could have gotten at him. I had a clear shot until _she_ showed up.”

Jackson frowns. Derek addresses her with a little inclination like he knows her.

“You know her?” He queries.

Derek’s silent for a long time. “I used to.”  Jackson doesn’t know what that’s supposed to mean.

A large dressing is placed onto the scratch marks on Jackson’s back and he feels Derek’s fingers brush against his spine before the pain starts dissipating at a rapid pace. He doesn’t know what Derek did. It might be the adrenaline rush or maybe it’s the antiseptic numbing his skin, whatever it is its working.

Jackson turns around and mumbles a quick ‘thanks’ before pulling a fresh t-shirt on.

“How do you know her?” Jackson quietly asks.

“Does it matter?” Derek replies.

Jackson purses his lips in thought. “I think so yeah. You didn’t see it Derek but she ... the woman-“

“Kate.” Derek supplies and Jackson thinks Derek must know her a lot more than he’s letting on if he knows her name.

“Kate. It looked like she was _controlling_ the Alpha. You didn’t see it because you were too busy bleeding out from when she shot you but she took out this whistle and blew it and once she did the Alpha went still. Like hypnotised kind of still. I think there’s a lot more to this than we think. That’s why I need to know how you know her because if she is controlling the Alpha maybe she’s doing it for you.”

Derek huffs. “Trust me; she wouldn’t do anything for me. She’s not the kind of person who does things for others out of the kindness of her heart.” Derek says bitterly.

“What is your history with her?” Jackson asks and Derek closes off. “It’s a long story.” He says.

“So show me.” Jackson replies, eyebrows rising when Derek sends him an imploring look.

“Look it’s apparent that more than ever you need my help and seeing as you had no problem with scouring through my memories I’m sure you can show me the ones you have with Kate.”

Derek looks so close to tearing Jackson’s head off that for a moment Jackson almost tells Derek that he didn’t mean it, that he doesn’t have to show Jackson anything he doesn’t want to.

“I know there were better ways in which I could have figured out why you hadn’t shifted yet.” Derek says. “But me and her, that isn’t something I’m willing to share. All you need to know is that she’s a hunter and a damn good one at that. And now because of tonight you’re on her watch list.”

Jackson swallows nervously at the prospect of that because Kate definitely knew her way around that gun she was handling.

“But could she do that? Would she be killing these people as an act of revenge for you?” Jackson asks.

“I doubt it.” Derek replies.

“Why?”

“Because she’s the one who started the fire.”

Well...fuck. Does Derek wait to tell him these things to ensure maximum levels of dramatise?  Jackson shakes his head because he doesn’t understand. Kate killed _Derek’s_ family.

“Wait if you know that she killed your family why the hell isn’t she rotting in jail.”

“You’ve seen the case files; lack of evidence - you know that better than anyone.”

“So you kill the bitch. It’s only fair.” Jackson concedes.

“There are rules Jackson.” Derek interjects.

“Screw the rules.”

“You have no idea how dangerous hunters are.”

“What and werewolves aren’t?” The teen retorts.

Derek’s silent for a moment before he takes in a steadying breath.

“We don’t have time for this, we’ve got things to figure out. Like who this Alpha is. There are no other werewolves or packs in Beacon Hills so this werewolf must be from another pack and we need to figure out what kind of sway Kate has over him in order to make him follow her every whim.”

“Or her.”

“What?” Derek asks with a frown.

“Well when you refer to the Alpha you keep saying him, it could easily be a woman.”

Derek’s frown deepens and he closes his eyes and shakes his head like he’s really confused. “Are we really having this conversation?”

Jackson shrugs. “Apparently so.”

They both go silent and Jackson thinks it must be the exhaustion creeping in now. Tonight just showed them that their both a lot farther behind in this whole thing then they both thought. They believed they just had the Alpha to go up against but apparently there’s a hunter too. The one that killed Derek’s family. Jackson didn’t sign up for this. He just wanted power, but something tells him that he wouldn’t be able to turn his back on Derek now. He feels loyal to him and he has no idea why but something deep within his chest keeps urging him to follow Derek.

“We should sleep. You can stay here; I doubt its safe back at your house.”  Jackson says.

Derek nods and Jackson exits his bedroom to get a spare pillow and duvet from the linen closet before returning and handing them to Derek.

“You can take the floor.” The teen informs.

Jackson turns off the light and sinks his head into his pillow. The tension in his body drains out of him almost immediately but his brain feels busy, too crowded with so many thoughts.

He hears the shuffle of cloth against cloth as Derek shifts and he slowly opens his eyes, eyelashes fluttering against his pillow case.

Derek clears his throat. “I do appreciate you helping me take down the Alpha and I know I could have gotten your memories from you a better way, next time I’ll ask.”

“Is that your idea of an apology?” Jackson asks.

“If it was, would I be forgiven?”

Jackson closes his eyes. “Not in the slightest.”

Derek wasn’t expecting to be forgiven, what he’d done was unforgivable. He betrayed the small amount of trust Jackson had in him but that’s just what Derek does, destroys everything he touches.

“But-. “ Jackson starts breaking Derek out of his self pitying reverie. “It’s a good place to start.”

He knows it’ll take time but it’s nice to know he hasn’t completely obliterated this tentative acquaintance between himself and Jackson. Derek smiles faintly.

“Goodnight Jackson.”

“Goodnight Derek.”

/

Kate’s been hunting for a long time, longer than she cares to remember. She’s quick, she’s smart, she’s the best at what she does.  She’s travelled the world and taken down some of the largest packs ever seen to man. When she dies her family will be remembered but it is her name, her legacy that will go down in history. She’s seen things hunters older than her haven’t but she has never encountered werewolf problems anywhere in the world like she’s seen in Beacon Hills.

Her latest hunt a few months back had found her thinking about what she could obtain from a werewolf. It had surprised her that past hunters hadn’t thought to use the werewolves, their walking weapons and with the right amount of leverage each one could be used for a hunters own whim. So Kate had set out and done exactly that. It wasn’t that hard. It’s simple to get someone to do what you want them to do. You just have to find their weakness and exploit it.

She had found a small family of three, mum, dad and their fifteen year old daughter. Werewolves, one of the smallest packs. It was pathetically easy to bring them down but as Kate stood over the daughter of the pack, her sword in hand and saw that delicious flash of fear in the werewolves eyes she saw someone she could manipulate. So she’d taken the girl and told her that if she wanted to live, she would do as Kate demanded.

The girl – Hannah – was rebellious at first, of course she was. After seeing Kate slaughter her family she thought she had nothing to live for but Kate showed her that in fact she did.

Kate had always had an affinity for torture, for dragging it out nice and slow and that’s exactly what she did. She strapped Hannah to a metal table using thick chains and tortured her until the girl lay broken and passive, ready to listen and obey any command Kate gave her.

Kate’s not a bad person, she’s inventive, she’s a survivor. Hunters are constantly finding new ways in which they can fight and win this war – new weapons – new allies. What better way to fight werewolves is there then using their own kind against them?

Hannah’s a good weapon however she’s not fully in control of her wolf. Kate thinks that might have something to do with the fact that Kate slaughtered Hannah’s family and anchors in front of her.

When Kate had come back to Beacon Hills a few months ago, Hannah in tow she had received several threats from those who she used to help her with killing the Hale’s all those years ago. Jerrison Myers demanded she give him money to keep quiet about the information he had about her starting the fire. Kate doesn’t take too well to being threatened so she’d put Hannah to good use, had forced the teenager to kill the man and it had worked. A few simple words and she’d done it. The perfect pet. The perfect weapon.  

After that Kate couldn’t take any risks and decided to take down her arson accomplices one by one. All was well until the killings attracted Laura Hale of all the people.

Kate kept Hannah chained up but on the full moon her powers were erratic and she’d managed to break out of her captivity and seek out the only other wolf within the vicinity.

By the time Kate had found her in the woods Hannah was sobbing and screaming, bloodied hands clutching at her head as her eyes snapped open and they glowed a beautiful red. Laura Hale was shredded to pieces ten feet away, body torn apart by claws and teeth.

“I didn’t mean to, I didn’t mean to.” Hannah whispered feverishly, body trembling as tears spilled from her eyes.

“She knew I killed all those people and I was trying to explain why but she wouldn’t, she wouldn’t listen.” Hannah said, closing her eyes as her bottom lip shook feebly.

“She said she’d have to tell the police and I got scared and angry and then I just hit her and I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t stop.”  The werewolf finishes with a sob.

Kate’s a young hunter but she’s seen everything. Seen a wolf break, there’s nothing quite like it.

Kate had knelt down, fingers brushing through Hannah’s rough, blood streaked blonde hair.

“It’s okay.” She whispered. “You did what you had to do. But there are going to be other people like her who are going to try and put you away, who will try to kill you but I know who they are and together were going to take them down. Okay?”

Hannah nodded, so easily influenced -easy prey. Kate grinned.

/

When Jackson gets up the next day Derek’s still asleep. The werewolves hand twitches slightly where it’s resting on his chest and Jackson decides to let him rest as he quietly walks to the bathroom.

It’s a Saturday but both his parents are already out for work. He lifts his t-shirt up over his head before looking over his shoulder into the mirror in the bathroom. It’s difficult but he stretches an arm back and pulls at one of the bandages Derek dressed his cuts with last night.

He grits his teeth and winces when he sees the marks across his shoulders. There not too deep but they look sore, there a deep red and the skin surrounding them is tight looking and pink. It’s going to scar.  It’s even more reason for Jackson to hurry up and activate his wolf, he works so hard on his appearance and he’s not going to let anything ruin it, not even four hundred pounds of crazy Alpha werewolf.

He covers the marks back up before washing his face and brushing his teeth. He heads down soon after and starts making himself some breakfast. Nothing fancy, just yoghurt fruit and some cereal.

He’s staring into space when Derek comes down, hair sleep messy. It’s hard to find him intimidating especially when he has little creases on his cheek from where it was pressed against a pillow.

“Breakfast for one.”  Derek comments, trying to sound aloof but he’s eyeing the food hungrily and really if he wants to eat he can make his own damn food.

“If you’re hungry help yourself, I’m not your personal chef.” Jackson attests.

Derek snorts but he looks uncomfortable and Jackson never thought he’d see the day that Derek Hale looked introverted. He decides to take some sympathy on him. He gets up and hands Derek the jug of coffee and a cup.

“Fruits in the fridge.” Jackson informs before taking a seat on one of the breakfast stools.

Derek pours his coffee and uses way too much milk – seriously his coffees basically white.  He opens the fridge and takes a small selection of fruit, mostly strawberries and pieces of apple. He picks up a yellow fruit that’s almost the same shape as a pear and raises an inquisitive eyebrow.

“Papaya.” Jackson identifies and Derek eyes the fruit like its evil or something before cautiously placing it back into the fridge.

Jackson shakes his head with exhausted humour. “You really need a lesson in food culture. The papaya’s a great fruit.” He says.

“One which you apparently like a bit too much.” Derek says and did he just make a joke? Jackson better start praying now because the rapture is surely happening, there must be an impending apocalypse if Derek Hale is showing signs of a sense of humour.

Derek sits on a stool opposite him and they sit in silence for a while.

“Can I ask you something?”  Jackson asks.

“You’re going to ask me anyway.” Derek replies and Jackson rolls his eyes. “You can never just give a straight forward answer can you?” The teen says. Derek grins at him over the rim of his coffee cup.

“I wanted to know about me being a werewolf. Why do I have to activate my wolf if it’s in my blood? You have werewolf blood and you can turn whenever you want. I don’t get it.” Jackson says, frustration lacing his voice.

Derek looks thoughtful before he places his mug down onto the table.  “Our situations are entirely different. I grew up around a pack, from the moment I was old enough to articulate words I knew what I was. The only way I can describe it is to think of a brain tumour. People can have them for years and they remain dormant and ineffective and then one day the affects of it can kick in. It’s the same for your being a werewolf. That side of you is dormant and I think it’s because of your... situation.” Derek says.

The air feels tight around them because it’s clear what Derek means by his _situation_. Him being adopted.  Him not being wanted. Jackson looks down, suddenly interested in the granite of the kitchen worktop.

“Sometimes to move on you have to face your past. Everyone has different things that hold them back, whether their aware of them or not.” The werewolf quietly says and it sounds like he’s speaking from experience.

“So then what do I have to do, confront my real parents?”

Derek shrugs, shoulders rigid. He looks regretful at not being able to offer more information and Jackson supposes that counts for something. “This is about you Jackson, not me. You obviously have unresolved feelings about your parents that only you can fix.”  Jackson closes his eyes because he doesn’t want it fixed, he wants to ignore it. Every time he thinks he can get away from this feeling of not belonging it comes back at him and now he has no choice but to explore it.  If it’s what’s holding him back from being a werewolf then he has to find them, he’s just not sure he’s ready for it yet.

“Your father’s home.” Derek acknowledges and Jackson’s about to say that he isn’t when he hears a car pull up onto the driveway.

Derek stands and makes his way to the backdoor. He pauses with the door open.

“I hope you find what you’re looking for.” Derek says and Jackson’s too shocked about the sincerity in Derek’s voice that he doesn’t reply. It’s only when the door shuts behind Derek that he finds it within himself to speak.

“Me too.”

/

Jackson throws himself into school. He spends longer than he should on homework and lacrosse training, anything to help avoid him thinking about his parents. He wouldn’t even know where to begin in finding them and he doesn’t want to ask David and Sophie about it because he feels like it would seem like he doesn’t appreciate them. But he does. He loves them and appreciates everything they’ve done for him, they’ve given him everything he’s ever wanted and more but they’re not family not really.

He needs to take his mind off of things and it just so happens that the circus is in town so Jackson decides to text Danny. They haven’t really spoken since their argument in the cafeteria and Jackson doesn’t like the thought of Danny being angry with him.

_Circus is in town, wanna go-  J_

It takes over five minutes for Danny to reply.

_Is this your way of apologizing for being a dick?_

Jackson scowls and choppily types a reply. _Forget it, next time I won’t bother_

_I’m kidding, I’ll pick you up at eight – D_

Jackson doesn’t have it in him to be angry, he just wants to be able to talk to his best friend again so he texts back with a quick confirmation before going to shower.  

Jackson hasn’t seen Derek for over two weeks and it doesn’t bother him until he realises how much Derek’s last words at breakfast seemed like a goodbye, but surely they weren’t. The Alpha’s not dead which means Derek still needs him.

Jackson finds himself thinking about Derek - more than he should, especially for someone who’s just a tool in the means for him to gain more strength. But he does think of him – of his voice, of his mannerisms.

When Jacksons at school and Greenburg misses an obvious hit in Lacrosse Jackson wonders what sarcastic jibe Derek would come up with. When Jacksons sitting down to a lavish meal he wonders what Derek’s eating. He’s seen the hotplate Derek has stashed in his desolate home and wonders how many alternate dishes Derek can make from it. But most of all he wonders why when he thinks of Derek he has the urge to touch himself. To alleviate some of the pressure that builds within him at the thought of the older man.

Jackson’s been attracted to men before so it’s not a daunting thought to know he finds Derek attractive but it’s just strange because sometimes it feels like more than physical attraction and he doesn’t know whether it’s because they’ve spent so much time together in a short amount of time or maybe it has something to do with his wolf – seeking approval and pack.

Regardless he thinks about Derek in bed, when it’s quiet and he can concentrate on the sounds of his own breathing. Where he can finger beneath his pyjama pants and wrap a hand around himself. Where he can muffle his moans of pleasure into his own shoulder as his hand jerks harder and faster.  He always feels weirdly guilty after. He doesn’t know how to describe it. It’s the wrong kind of right. The kind of taste that is alluring but dangerous.  It sounds like every relationship Jackson’s ever had.

/

When Jackson gets in the car, Danny’s quiet and his eyes are red.

“What happened?” Jackson asks with narrowed eyes. Danny turns to him. “Nothing.” He replies and when Jackson eyes him sceptically Danny laughs awkwardly but stops when Jackson sends him a deadpanned look. “Seriously, I’m fine.”

“You look like you’ve been crying.” Jackson says and Danny shakes his head in denial as he starts the car and heads off down the road.

“S’jus allergies, hay fever.” Danny denies and Jackson raises a brow.

“In October?” Jackson disbelievingly asks but Danny doesn’t say anything just smiles tightly as if he doesn’t smile he’ll just start crying again.

“Is this about Trevor?” Jackson asks already aware of the answer. Of course it’s Trevor, Danny’s fucktard of a boyfriend who is constantly treating his best friend like shit.

Danny sighs like he doesn’t want to talk about it which he probably doesn’t but just because Jackson’s emotionally stunted when it comes to talking about himself it doesn’t mean he isn’t there for those he cares about. “We just had an argument, it was my fault. But anyway it doesn’t matter, I’m going to call him tomorrow and we’ll be fine – we always are.”

Jackson frowns but refrains from saying anything because he’s tried. He’s constantly telling Danny that Trevor’s a waste of space who doesn’t deserve Danny and that Danny could do so much better but there’s only so much advice you can give especially when the person you’re giving it to won’t accept it. Danny cares about Trevor maybe even loves him so there’s no way Danny’s going to give up on the relationship if there’s any hope of it working out. The only way he would break up with Trevor was if the other did something really bad. So Jackson doesn’t lecture, just supports.

“I know you’ll be fine but just a fair warning if you need me to kick his ass I will.”

Danny laughs, sharp and bright before he smiles. It’s not watery like before and to Jackson that’s all that counts.  Jackson leans forward turning up the radio. Himself and Danny sing along badly and loudly to the songs all the way to the circus.

/

“What d’ya wanna see first?” Danny asks extending his hand over to Jackson – the one that’s holding the popcorn. They headed to the food stands first because let’s be honest here there the most important thing.

Jackson takes some popcorn and pops it into his mouth. “Umm...oh that double jointed lady who can put both her legs behind her head.” Jackson says around a mouthful of food, eyebrows waggling goofily.

“You know there’s a guy at The Jungle who can do that and we wouldn’t have to pay over ten bucks just to see it.”

Jackson scrunches his nose up. “Eww.”

Danny rolls his eyes. “I get it - your straight, no supremely flexible guys for you.” Jackson laughs but he can feel his face heating and is glad it’s cold out so he can blame the colour in his cheeks on the weather. Jackson has considered telling Danny he’s attracted to guys – to Derek- but then Danny would want to know details and Jacksons not even sure of his own feelings so how is he supposed to explain them to someone else?

He forgets about it soon though as himself and Danny begin exploring several of the circus tents. Most of the stuff that’s here was there last year when the circus came into town so they visit their favourite ones. Knife throwing, baton twirling – with added fire of course and then the rhythmic gymnastics where several people are handing down from the ceiling by large ribbons.  Their movements are fluid and graceful and when the music starts and the strobe lighting takes effect Jackson watches them in awe, gets lost in the artful movements of their bodies.

They see who can eat a toffee apple faster and Jackson feels like he cracked a tooth but Danny finishes his first which means he gets to choose what they see next.

Their walking past a drab worn purple tent with a rounded blackboard outside of it. There’s  a creepy eye drawn on the corner of the blackboard in yellow and in blue and green writing it says : _Come inside and discover your future, have your cards read today._

Jackson scoffs and continues walking only stopping when he realises Danny’s stopped. He turns around and sees Danny eyeing the sign with contemplation.

“Ugh Danny you can’t be serious.” Jackson groans.

“Oh come on Jacks, it’s just a bit of fun.” Danny comments and Jackson walks over to him, hands shoved in his pockets. He hates stuff like this. It’s just a ploy to pray on the weak-mindedness of people who are gullible enough to believe that people can tell their future just by looking at some cards.

Danny’s doing puppy eyes at him. Jackson sighs, eyes looking skyward, resigned. “Fine.” He sighs. He’ll bite but he doesn’t have to like it.

When they separate the open flaps of the tent and walk through there’s a small walk space with candles lined up on either side.  

“Fire hazard much?” Jackson says, Danny doesn’t reply just rolls his eyes, smiling quietly and affectionately.

“I know you don’t believe in this kind of stuff but it could be interesting.” Danny comments.

“Yeah about as interesting as coach’s pre game pep talks.” Jackson mumbles but follows Danny to the end of the hallway and through into a smaller tent, an add on to the big one. When they peel back the curtain a man’s sitting at a small round table. There’s a red cloth over the table and to his left a pack of tarot cards and to his right another set of cards that Jackson doesn’t recognise but he catches the word angel scrawled across them.

“Angel cards.” The man identifies and catches Jackson’s eye. “Huh?” Jackson eloquently grunts.

“I could see you looking at them.” The man says, fingers indicating to the cards.

“What are angel cards?” Danny asks.

“There a type of conduit. We use the cards for many reasons – some for comfort, others to seek guidance, maybe from those they’ve lost. The angels send you a message but something tells me you two are more interested in getting your tarot cards read.”

Danny looks impressed but Jackson snorts.

“Yeah I’m sure it was real hardship over hearing our conversation through the thin tent wall.” Jackson says. Of course they came to get their tarot cards read, that is why they stepped into the tarot reading tent. Jackson’s willing to do this for Danny but the physic or whatever can cut all the new age bullshit. Jackson knows it’s not real.

“A non believer. That’s okay; I’ve seen your type before. You can go first.” The man says grinning, showing off a gold tooth. His hairs curled around his face in dark tufts, almost greasy looking as it covers a section of his eye. Jackson can see a thick pink scar hiding beneath his hair, slashed across his eyelid. It looks like claw incisions.  He doesn’t look like a psychic, if anything Jackson was expecting a lady in her mid fifties with a glass eye and an unreasonable love for house cats.

“How’d you get the scar?” Jackson asks, ignoring Danny’s alarmed high pitched -‘ _Jackson_!’. The man grins again, this time slowly. “Werewolf.” He answers, greyish eyes skittering up to Jackson’s. Does he know what Jackson is? If he does why hasn’t he attacked him, or maybe he’s a werewolf too.

Jackson almost feels compelled to sit so he does taking a seat opposite the man.

“Names Orion.” He says and of course he has some obligatory out there kind of name, Jackson’s half surprised it wasn’t something ridiculous like Bane or Shadow.  “If you have any questions now would be the time.” He says.  

“I’m good.” Jackson replies and Orion nods before reaching for the cards. He holds them like their something precious.

“Before I hand these to you I need you to think of a question – just one – that you want to ask the cards. I need you to propel this question to the cards. Think of that one questions.” Jackson sighs and raises an eyebrow but does as he’s told. He accepts the cards and tries to think of what he could ask.  He tells himself, he’s just curious to see what’ll happen.   _Why haven’t I transformed into a wolf yet._ He thinks the question repeatedly and wonders how he’s supposed to communicate this to the cards. He just thinks it again and lifts the hand that’s holding the cards as if he can shake his thoughts into it.

“Do you have the question?” Orion asks and Jackson nods. “Good.” Orion says. “Now I want you to shuffle the cards and keep this question in mind.” Jackson does as instructed half-assing the shuffling because he doesn’t know how to shuffle cards. He takes a large section of cards out and shoves it in halfway through and repeats the process all the while repeating the question in his head.

“Right now hand me back the cards.” Jackson does as watches as Orion fans them out across the table in one smooth motion. Bastard. “Now I need you to very carefully pick out seven cards, take your time. I need you to pick out the ones that are calling out to you the most.”

“Seven? Aren’t there supposed to be three, you know like past, present and future?” Jackson queries.

“Someone’s seen one too many Miss Cleo infomercials.” Orion says with a smirk, directing the comment at Danny who laughs and – is he blushing? Unbelievable.  Jackson hates them both.

Jackson doesn’t know if it’s the toffee from the apple he ate earlier or what but it feels like there is a tether guiding his fingers to certain cards. It’s weird and he doesn’t know how to explain it but as his eyes scan the cards he feels nothing and then suddenly it’s like a small spark, like his heads saying – that one – pick that one.

He continues until he has seven cards and once he’s placed all seven to the side Orion nods and scoops up the remaining cards placing them to the side.

Orion picks up the cards Jackson had picked out before turning over the first one. It’s the card for strength.

Orion points to the card. “This is where you want to be. This is what you want.” He says. “To be stronger?” Jackson asks and Orion shakes his head in the negative. “The strength card doesn’t necessarily represent physical strength. The card can represent forgiveness and compassion and to me it feels like this is what you want, what your aiming towards but this –“ Orion pauses and picks out the second card Jackson chose and places it horizontally across the strength card. The second card is the devil. “This is what’s stopping you from obtaining that compassion. The devil isn’t necessarily a bad thing.” Orion rushes to say. “Many people believe that this card and the death card are bad omens but quite the contrary. The devil card is showing us that you are submitting to your own fears and insecurities and because you’re submitting to them you’re blindly allowing these fears and insecurities to control your life. This is why the devil card is placed across your strength card because you can’t truly achieve the strength that you want until you fight your inner devil – your inner turmoil.”

It feels too real. It’s eerie in a way that Jackson wasn’t expecting it to be. He feels violated like he’s just a puppet in his own life and someone else is controlling it, is watching him and laughing at all the bad decisions he’s making. But it could mean anything. His inner demons could be anything, from not knowing about his parents to him not being as strong as McCall.

“How do I defeat my inner demons?” he asks and Orion smiles, this time it isn’t smug it’s soft and imploring almost as if he’s fascinated by Jackson.

“That’s for you to work out. Just know that you can get there. Strength is in your sites but only you can get there, only you can reach that point.”

Jackson nods, his head feels heavy on his shoulder. “Okay.” He says. “What does the next card mean?”

Orion flips the card over and places it beside the devil and strength card. He continues until all the cards Jackson chose are circling the strength and the devil card. Orion explains how the cards start from Jackson’s past and once they reach the top of the circle they represent his future.  

Orion taps his finger against the card.  “This last card is temperance. This could represent desire but looking at the rest of your cards I think temperance for you means the coming together of two beings that must function as one, perhaps they’ll be someone new in your life that will help this development. Does that seem right to you?”

Jackson studies the card for a moment and wonders what it could mean. Most of the cards have more than one representation but Jackson asked the cards if he’ll ever become a werewolf and to him temperance – the coming together of two beings represents the human side and werewolf side of himself coming together.

“Yeah.” He says. “It does seem right.”

/

“Dude that was frickin...insane, no amazing. Just amazing.” Danny comments, practically vibrating with energy from where he’s walking beside Jackson as they make their way towards Danny’s car. After they’d gone through the rest of Jackson’s cards Orion did Danny’s and his were freakishly accurate.

“It was alright I suppose.” Jackson relents.

Danny’s mouth pulls to the side. “Just alright, I don’t know about yours but mine were dead on, maybe he wasn’t a faker after all.”

Jackson thinks about his cards, his inner demons, his choices. Things he isn’t able to face but is apparent that it’s holding him back.  It’s one thing to have his insecurities festering in the back of his mind but to know that someone else can see them just by reading a few cards makes him feel vulnerable and on edge. But then he has to think, is this incessant need to seem perfect what’s holding him back? Does he have to let go of all these insecurities he’s built up over the years? It’s not as easy as it sounds and Jackson has a feeling it’s about to get a hell of a lot harder.

/

Jackson hasn’t been sleeping well again, there’s no nightmares just a constant restlessness. The moment the scratches on the back of his neck healed he stopped reliving Derek’s memories. Regardless he’s cranky from lack of sleep and he’s not looking where he’s going as he exits the school and ends up knocking his shoulder into someone.

“Watch it.” He grumbles angrily.

“Now is that anyway to talk to a lady.” A voice purrs and Jackson freezes because he knows that voice. He turns around slowly, the strap of his backpack sliding down his shoulder as he comes face to face with Kate.

Jackson immediately panics wondering what she’s doing here.  Has she come to kill him because she thinks he’s a werewolf or maybe there’s someone else here that she’s after? He doesn’t have time to contemplate it however because Alison comes blundering down the steps of the school and when she sees them she grins broadly.

“Aunt Kate.” She says and Jackson’s eyes widen and he stares at Kate is disbelief even as the huntress face changes from smugness to a friendly grin and she turns to face Alison.

They share a hug and Alison turns to Jackson.

“Jackson, I see you’ve met my aunt. This is Kate, Kate this is my friend Jackson.”

Kate smirks. “Alison you never told me the boys in your school were so cute.” She comments sultrily and Jackson resists the urge to sneer at her sweet facade. He wants to tell Alison to get away from her because Kate’s poison. He wonders if maybe Alison knows what Kate is but he just can’t imagine it. Alison’s too good to ever hurt anyone. She can’t know her aunts a hunter – a killer.  

“Aunt Kate!” Alison admonishes with an embarrassed laugh before looping her arm through her aunt’s.

“Well we better get going I’ll see you around.” Alison says and Jackson’s still struck silent. He nods and watches them walk away, feels an unwelcome chill run down his spine when Kate turns and looks at him over her shoulder.

/

Jackson finds Derek in the living room of the Hale house.

He’s out of breath but he hasn’t run. He thinks it must be another adrenaline rush from seeing Kate and surviving it. He was half expecting her to pull out an AK and shoot him in the head.

“Kate Argent is Alison’s aunt. My _friend_ Alison.” Jackson says, voice rough and Derek just looks at him like this isn’t new information.

“I know.” Derek confirms his thoughts.

“Wait you know. We have to tell Alison, Kate’s a psycho and she’s been staying at their house. I knew Alison’s aunt was in town but I didn’t think for a second it was that hunter. Alison had said her aunt was quirky and by quirky I’m sure she didn’t mean _mass murdering huntress_.” 

Derek shakes his head. “She probably knows exactly what Kate it. It’s who they are, who Alison is.” Derek says, voice flat.

“I don’t believe that. Alison could never be like Kate.”  Jackson denies.

“You’d be surprised. Given the right circumstances, people are capable of almost anything.”  Derek shares and Jackson wants to hit him because he’s making it out like Alison is some psycho and she’s not, she’s Jackson’s friend and he doesn’t want her to get hurt.

Kate’s bad news and they need to get rid of her or at least get rid of her leverage, the thing that’s making her untouchable and that would be the Alpha.

“Get up, were sparring.” Jackson orders.

Derek raises an eyebrow at him but when he speaks his voice is placating. “You know no matter how much we spar you won’t transform.”

Jackson nods jerkily. “I know. And I also know what I have to do to activate it but I’m not ready for that yet. In the mean time I can train, I can get stronger and I can help you bring the Alpha down and get Kate to leave. I don’t want her near my friends.”  Jackson states with conviction.

Derek notices this as the first time Jackson’s ever done something for someone else, or shown concern for someone else. It’s a good look on him.

/

Kate fills two tumblers with a generous helping of whiskey before handing one over to her brother.

“I may have figured out who our second werewolf is.” She says conversationally and watches how Chris’s shoulders tighten. He strides over to the study door before closing it quickly.

“I’m listening.”

“He’s one of Alison’s classmate’s; he’s actually a good looking boy.”

“Skip the niceties Kate we don’t have time for this. We have wolves killing people left right and centre here. ”

She smirks. “You’re no fun.” She comments before releasing a long suffering sigh when Chris just glares.

“You said you saw two wolves in the woods that night. One was Derek Hale and the other was smaller, a teenager. I think it was Jackson Whittemore.” She says and Chris frowns.

“David and Sophie’s kid. I don’t think so. They’re both human and he would be too unless he was bitten.”

“I saw him with Derek in the woods a few weeks ago. I started firing and the kid was eager to get Derek out of there. If that isn’t protecting your pack, I don’t know what is.”

“You shot at a sixteen year old boy!” Chris outrages, slamming his glass down onto the desk. “You’re here to collect and analyse information not jump in all guns blazing. Jackson’s father is a lawyer what would you have done if he’d told his father what happened that night!”

“And yet he hasn’t. Any rational human would tell the police if they were shot at but not him. He goes back to school and acts like a normal kid. I shot Hale in the chest and I’m sure if Jackson didn’t know about werewolves he’d find it a little suspicious when Derek spontaneously healed his bullet wound. I’m telling you this kid is the other werewolf.”

Chris frowns. “We can’t be sure of that. We’ve never actually seem him transform and we don’t have any evidence of him hurting anyone. You know the code Kate.”

Kate rolls her eyes and downs her whiskey. “Yes, you never let me forget it.” She says before standing up and heading towards the door.

”Where are you going?”  He asks agitatedly.

“The woods, didn’t you hear there’s an Alpha on the loose.”

/

Jackson uses the flat of his forearm to push away the punch Derek aims at him and with his other arm swings for Derek. Derek grabs his hand before his fist can make impact and uses his hold on Jackson to turn him around, forcing the teens arm behind his back as he pushes him up against a nearby tree. Jackson’s face scratches against the bark of it as he gasps in breaths.

“You’re getting better.” Derek comments offhandedly. 

Jackson smiles through his laboured breathing. “I know.” He admits before lifting his foot and hooking it around Derek’s ankle. He elbows the werewolf in the ribs and pulls the foot wrapped around Derek’s ankle closer to himself. Derek pulls back in order to get away from Jackson’s elbow but the foot wrapped around his ankle makes his footing falter and he tumbles to the ground, bringing Jackson with him.

He haphazardly lands on top of Jackson the teen’s knee gently touching Derek’s hip.

Jackson’s leg moves slightly, his knee brushing up over Derek’s hip to his ribs and Derek slides into the easy space made for him between Jackson’s legs.

“Jackson –“

“Don’t talk.”  The teen rushes out so Derek doesn’t.

When Jackson kisses him its open mouthed and breathless and Derek can taste the lingering essence of mint from Jackson’s toothpaste.

Derek knew something had changed, could feel it when the teen was around, could sense the shift in his scent and stance, it was subtle but noticeable.

Derek gives into the kiss, opens his mouth to Jackson’s probing tongue and breathes out a moan, the sound collapsing into his throat.

They pull away for the shortest time to suck in breathes then Derek’s sitting up and pulling Jackson with him, reaching down to grip Jackson’s thighs.

He bites at Jackson’s bottom lip, and then the teen’s hands are everywhere, draped around his shoulders, pulling at his hair, fingers gliding over his neck. His hands curve up under Jackson’s thighs to his hips where he pulls him closer and its then that he realises Jackson’s in his lap, knees pressed into the ground on either side of Derek’s hips.

Derek has a sixteen year old boy in his lap.

_Derek has a sixteen year old boy in his lap._

He pulls away from the kiss and their lips make a wet squeaking sound. He pushes at Jackson’s chest and the teen obliges, climbs out of his lap unsteadily. Derek runs a hand over his eyes, grimacing. 

“Derek?”

Derek sucks in a breath.

“Why did you do that?”

He looks over to Jackson who’s kneeling, legs pressed into wet earth and leaves.

Jackson seems to curl in on himself a small embarrassed flush creeping up his skin. He looks vulnerable.

“Because I wanted to.” He says then immediately after. “And I think you wanted to as well.”

Derek looks away and suddenly all the noises he could hear in the woods before seem muted and all he can concentrate on is Jacksons heartbeat.

“Did you?” Jackson asks and he sounds frustrated but beneath it there’s something more, the desperate need to know.

Derek looks at him.

“Yes.” He confesses and then gives Jackson the courtesy of pretending he doesn’t notice the relief on Jacksons face.

“Well then why did you stop me?” Jackson asks.

“You’re just a kid. You don’t know what you want.” Derek tells him and Jackson scoffs loudly and indignantly.

“If you think I’m old enough to spar and go up against hunters and rogue Alpha’s then I think I’m definitely old enough to decide who I want to sleep with.”

Derek blushes can’t help it because just the _thought_ of it has his pulse beating faster. Thinking of all that skin, tanned and taut with youth, that mouth plush and pink, those aquamarine eyes gazing at him with want, with _need._ He clears his throat before looking down.

“If you’re sure, if it’s what you really want.”

“I do.” Jackson says and Derek listens to his heartbeat because even if Jackson did lie his heart can’t, but it stays steady throughout, a calming thump and Derek doesn’t want to think too much about how content that makes him.

“Okay then.” He says.

“So we’re doing this?” Jackson asks and Derek nods his head in confirmation. He looks up to see a small smile on Jacksons face that soon turns sultry and dangerous and fuck what has he gotten himself into? The thought doesn’t last for long because Jackson’s pressing him down onto his back and kneeling over him lips pressing against his own and fuck that _mouth._

/

They take Jackson’s car to get takeaway and as Derek relays his order Jackson can’t help but to watch Derek’s mouth and feel smug about the fact that his lips are swollen and red because of Jackson.

He wasn’t expecting to kiss Derek but what was more of a surprise was how good it felt, how natural. He doesn’t want to think too much about it because that’s how Jackson is. If he thinks too much it gives room to think of all the things that could go wrong. So he’s taking it as it comes and right now its fine. It’s good.

They eat their food in the car of the fast food restaurants parking lot. Jacksons just digging into his fries when Derek speaks.

“We need to lay low for a couple of days. If Kate saw you earlier she’s going to be more suspicious of you especially since we know she has some type of alliance with this Alpha. I think the best thing we can do for now is make sure she doesn’t succeed in hurting anyone else that were called as witnesses during the Arson case.” Derek says and Jackson nods.

“How are we going to do that?” The teen wonders.

“I still have that copy of the files you got from your father. It states the names of all the people who were suspected accomplices in the arson. We just have to find those who still live in Beacon Hills and keep them under our protection.” Derek explains, leaning across to take one of Jackson’s fries.  

After a while Jackson clears his throat, turns the radio down.

“Don’t get me wrong Derek I think what you’re doing- helping these people is good but just...why are you doing it? These people well... they helped kill your family.”

Derek misses his family every single day. His grief never goes away, it doesn’t dull. As each day passes he can feel himself forgetting things about his family, the way they smelled, the way their voices sounded and he gets so angry about it he feels like his heads going to explode. But one thing he will always remember is that although he may be a predator he’s not a killer. He knows that he can’t prevent himself from forgetting certain attributes his family had but what he can do is follow by the example they set him and vow to be a better person, to not use his strength against others but use it to _help_ them. He thinks of Laura and how she kept these ethics even after they both lost their entire family.

He turns to Jackson.

“Because it’s the right thing to do.” He says.

/

When Derek eventually get’s back to his house it’s late. He would have been home a lot earlier if it wasn’t for Jackson pushing him against the Porsche and kissing him breathless.  Dragging him in with his plush mouth and the addictive taste and feel of him.

Derek’s phone starts ringing and he pulls it out of his jean pocket to take a look at who could be calling him. Uncle Peter.  Derek’s thumb hovers over the answer button hesitantly before he presses it.

“Derek.”

“Uncle Peter, how are you?”

“Well and yourself?”

Derek actually contemplates the question before answering. “Better.”

“You sound it.” Derek doesn’t think he sounds any different but apparently he does.

“Is there any news on Laura?”

“I think the Argents are involved somehow.” Derek supplies because he can’t lie to Peter, not after all this time. He lied to his family before and it led to their demise and he realises now more than ever that he needs to keep the ties with his remaining family strong and right now Peter is the only family he has left.

Peter knows the Argent’s caused the fire he just doesn’t know how they got close enough to do it. Derek can still tell that Peter’s sensitive about the subject because he’s quiet, too quiet.

“We think that Kate’s controlling the Alpha and getting him to kill people we just don’t know how or why.” Derek explains.

Peter hums thoughtfully. “Manipulation most likely, most wolves would never hurt other wolves unless they’d been provoked or forced.”

Derek nods – just as he’d thought. But now they have to figure out who this wolf is.

“Derek are you sure you don’t need me there. I don’t like the thought of you being out there alone especially if the Argents are involved.”  Peter says.

Derek’s been alone his whole life, even though he grew up in a big family he was an awkward teenager, he was gangly and anti social. But not anymore, now it feels different somehow. Derek thinks of Jackson.

“I’m not alone.” He says.

/

Peter was the one who saved Derek and Laura the day of the fire.

Everyone was at the house, aunts, uncles, cousins, brothers and sisters. They were having their monthly meet up where they would all get a takeaway, watch movies and just enjoy spending time with one another when they were attacked.  Peter was out collecting the pizzas and had been on his way back to the house when the fire started.  He hadn’t thought before he charged through to the house and started beating the door down. He was so frenzied – so carnal with the need to save his pack that he hadn’t paid attention to the human scents lingering around the house, nor the ashy blackness of the incomplete mountain ash circle around the Hale house, the circle being completed once he was inside of it.

People think werewolves are invincible but they’re not. They may heal faster than others but they still feel pain like everyone else.

Derek remember the fire perfectly, remembers the panic and pain he felt. Remembers screams from family members.

They’d all been in the basement which was recently renovated as a game room when several glass bottles were thrown through the small window that rested a few inches above the basement. The fire ignited instantly and the ceiling began to cave in. A beam had fallen from the roof trapping Talia beneath it and no matter how hard Derek tried he couldn’t push it off of her. He wasn’t strong enough. Talia kept yelling at him and Laura to get out but they couldn’t leave her behind that was until his mother’s eyes had bled red and she’d growled at them to get out.

Unable to deny their Alpha they did. They clawed their way through the house, lungs filling with the acidic taste of smoke as it clogged up their lungs. He had tripped over a toppled over cabinet and felt Laura forcefully pick him up off of the floor, her sharp claws pricking into his back as she yelled at him to run faster.

Once they had gotten to the front door it was a struggle to get out. The metal from the door handle was scalding, hotter than the fire slowly surrounding them so himself and Laura tried to kick it open only for their attempts to fail. Something had been placed on the other side of the door.

“I don’t want to die.” He’d confessed, close to losing consciousness from the inhalation of so much smoke. Laura had grabbed his face in-between her hands, fingers wiping at his wet cheeks.

“It’s okay, were going to be okay.” She promised just before the roof caved in above them.

Derek doesn’t remember much after that; it’s a blur, a series of confusing sequences.

He remembers the front door being kicked in, remembers his Uncle Peter’s voice and the feel of laminate flooring then the forest ground beneath his back. Remembers staring up at the stars and smelling burning flesh and realising what was happening to his family but being too fatigued to get up, too sick with smoke inhalations and burns to even contemplate the thought of moving.  Couldn’t contemplate it but somehow managed it, body weak and feeble Derek had stumbled to his feet in time to see Laura grab Uncle Peter and forcibly stop him from entering the house – their house – his family home that didn’t even resemble a home anymore.

It was decayed- desolate – burning to a crisp with his family inside.

“Emily! Emily!” Peter shouted, voice more animal than man, howling out his pain, calling for his wife.

“She’s gone Peter.” He heard Laura shout and Derek fell to his knees, releasing an agonised howl alongside Peter because this – this was all _his fault._

/

Kate walks down through the old abandoned subway station to the train car at the far end where she’s been keeping Hannah.

It’s a secure place that was abandoned a long time ago and it was the perfect place to keep Hannah without anyone being able to find her.

She walks through the train car door and sees Hannah just where she left her slouched on the floor chained to one of the car seats.

Hannah’s head perks up slightly, enough of an indication that she heard Kate but she keeps her eyes lowered to the floor.  Kate takes a key out of her pocket and undoes one of the shackles on Hannah’s wrist before throwing a bag at her that has some food in it. Hannah scrambles for the bag, messily tearing it open with her teeth.

She eats hurriedly. She’s most likely to throw up later. Kate doesn’t often give her food and when she does Hannah scoffs it down and at first it’s always too much for her stomach to handle. It doesn’t matter, that’s not Kate’s problem.

When Hannah’s finished her sandwich Kate reaches behind her and slides her gun out of her holster, swinging it around and shooting Hannah in the leg. The girl screams, high pitched and pained before cowering when Kate stalks towards her.

Kate kneels down and uses her free hand to place pressure onto the bullet wound. Hannah whimpers.

“That was a pretty stupid stunt you pulled the other night, running away into the woods of all the places.” Kate admonishes making little tutting sounds as she shakes her head.

“You know you make me do this don’t you? I don’t want to hurt you but you brought this upon yourself.” Kate explains adding a tightening pressure onto Hannah’s leg when she digs her nails into the bullet wound, halting the healing process.

Hannah’s shaking, head still cast downwards, tears building in her eyes.

The first time Hannah had broken through the bonds was when Laura Hale was in the woods. By the time Kate caught up to her she had a dead alpha to deal with, what Kate remains oblivious to though is the boy Hannah bit that night after she inherited Laura’s Alpha abilities. Hannah has managed to stay quiet about it, the boy had smelled good and trusting and Hannah didn’t mean to bite him but she was frenzied and out of control and all she had been trying to do was warn the boy and get him to leave before Kate found him.

She’d only heard his name – Scott – but there’s a part of her that aches to call out to him, to extend and create a pack, one she can call her own. There’s too much riding on the thin veiled hope she has of belonging so she keeps quiet about biting and turning Scott and hopes that one day she can make it out of this hell hole and try to get back everything that she’s lost. To have a family again. To have a pack.

“What I want to know is what was so important that you had to disobey me. What was of such high relevance that you managed to gather enough strength to break through these bonds and make it to the woods? Hmm? Come on you know you can tell me.” Kate says, voice a quiet mistrusting murmur.  

“The boy, the boy in the woods.” Hannah whispers and her voice sounds dead and hollow from disuse.  Hannah had recognised Jackson’s scent, it was tinged with wolf and she remembers it from the night at the video store where Kate had ordered her to kill the clerk. Neither of them were expecting anyone else to be there so it had been a surprise when Jackson had walked in, an even bigger surprise when Hannah realised that he was part wolf.  

“What about him?” Kate coaxes.

“He’s...he’s like me.” The huntress raises an interested eyebrow.

“He’s a wolf?” She asks.

Hannah nods in confirmation and once she does Kate removes her hand from Hannah’s leg and the werewolf gasps in a thankful breath at the alleviation of pain.

“How interesting.” Kate says, fingers running through Hannah’s hair. “How very interesting.”

/


	3. Routes

Jackson feels fifteen years old again, back when he’d sneak into Lydia’s room and press kisses down her stomach and listen to the catch in her breath. Where they’d share breath filled kisses between giggles and smother _shhh’s_ between each other lips because Lydia’s parents were only one room over and if they caught Jackson in her room they’d both be grounded for sure.

But this time Jackson’s got someone sneaking into _his_ room. He’s got Derek on his back beneath the covers, shirtless with his jeans messily shoved open. One of Jackson’s hands is beside Derek’s head, sinking into the mattress whiles the other wraps around Derek’s cock.  

Derek hisses, shuts his eyes and pushes his hips up, thrusts into the warm tight circle of Jackson’s fingers.

“Yeah, come on Derek.” Jackson whispers jerking his hand faster. One of Derek’s hands is fisted in his own hair, the other clamped around Jackson’s hip, nails biting into the teen’s skin.

Derek wants to pull him closer, wants to feel the heat of Jackson’s skin, wants to kiss him but this feels so fucking good and Derek doesn’t want it to stop so he doesn’t move, just let’s Jackson have his way with him.

He watches as Jackson takes his hand away from Derek’s cock then straddles Derek’s thighs. He licks his palm, getting it nice and wet before he wraps it back around Derek creating a tight warm suction around him. Jackson twists his wrist, thumbs at the head and this is better because Derek can reach more of him, can bring a hand down and wrap his fingers around Jackson’s helping him to jerk Derek off faster. 

“Want you to come on me.” Jackson says and Derek nearly has an aneurism. In reality he comes, hot and thick over Jackson’s chest and fingers. He’s left gasping after cock twitching in Jackson’s hand, body equally tense and loose, a heady pleasure filled mix.

He sinks back into the bed, finding a comfortable position.  When he sees Jackson’s about to move, he reaches up to cradle his waist with one hand and with the other rubs his come into Jackson’s skin, over his abs and perked pink nipples. It’s a lot of come. Jackson huffs.

“Are you seriously rubbing your come into my skin. You are one sick dude.”  He says and Derek smiles, continues with his fucked up version of painting.

They lie on the bed after and Derek doesn’t know when it became a habit for him to stay – at least until Jackson falls asleep. They can’t risk Jackson’s parents walking in and finding them. Somehow Derek doesn’t think the towns most prestigious lawyer would take too kindly to an ex murder suspect in his sixteen year old son’s bed.

Derek turns to Jackson and sees the teen looking spaced out, his hand loosely grasping his pillow. He frowns before asking him what’s wrong.

“I want to find my birth parents.” He says and he looks sick like the very thought is simultaneously daunting and exciting.

“Okay.” Derek replies because he’s not sure what else he _can_ say.

“It’s just, ever since David told me I was adopted I’ve wanted to know why they gave me up. Do you think I’m doing the right thing, I mean I love my parents I do but I’m not _theirs_ , not really.”

Derek doesn’t know what to do with that information, doesn’t know what advice to give, can barely believe Jackson trusts his opinion enough to ask.

“I think you should do what makes you happy.” He says and Jackson looks thoughtful, says nothing for several minutes before leaning in to kiss Derek. He pulls back but keeps their foreheads pressed together.

“Thanks.” Jackson breaths and Derek wants to say that he didn’t do anything but instead he folds his arms around Jackson’s middle and kisses him again.

“Any time.”

/

Beacon Hills is exactly how Peter remembers. The buildings and people haven’t changed but the scent has. It doesn’t smell like home anymore. He knows Derek’s been staying at their old house but Peter doesn’t have the strength to go there. He’d run off to New Orleans ten years ago to escape his demons but no matter what he does they’ll always have a permanent home in his mind and in his old family house.  

He’s walking through the woods close to the house as he scents the air. It smells slightly more contaminated with chemicals but other than that he can smell metal, earth and gun powder.

He stops on the outskirts of the old Hale House, hidden from view by trees. He can’t bring himself to look at it but when he hones his senses in he can hear Derek’s inside. It won’t be long before Derek notices his presence and ventures outside.

When Peter concentrates further he can hear another heartbeat – another voice – murmuring lowly. Peter hasn’t eavesdropped in a long time so he can’t quite tell what the other persons saying but their tone is teasing. He hears Derek’s voice rumble something back before the other man laughs – a laugh that is cut off by the sound of lips pressing together.

When the sounds turn into breathy moans, Peter feels his face heating and he loudly calls out for his nephew. The noise inside of the house ceases instantly and Peter can practically feel the palpable tension even from this far away.

When Derek steps out of the house Peter isn’t expecting him to be accompanied by a teenager.  Derek’s got a ruddy flush up his neck but he looks surprised when he sees Peter.

Peter knows that when he talks to Derek it drudges up bad memories and Derek’s guilt overrides him but he needed to be here for Derek. Derek’s the only family Peter has left. Peter may be with another pack now but it’s never felt like home with them. It’s as if he’s been on a vacation. A long one. It’s hard to describe how it feels to be back, to be standing so close to the place where he lost his family.  

Peter knows about Kate. How could he not? Derek wasn’t as sly as he thought he was. It’s hard to ignore someone who’s in love, especially when you have heightened senses and you can smell it on them.  Love has an odd smell – dark chocolate mixed with elderberries. Heady and sweet.

Peter hadn’t known Kate was a hunter but after the fire happened and Kate disappeared the pieces became easy to fit together and he knows that Derek blames himself for the loss of his family but they finally have the chance for retribution and hell If Peter isn’t going to snap up the chance to get it.

“Derek.” Peter says with a smile.

Derek looks guilty, face pale and sick stricken. Peter wishes he’d just forgive himself.

“Peter.” He greets before seemingly remembering they’ve got company.

“This is uh...this is Jackson, Jackson this is my uncle Peter.”

Jackson’s eyes widen like he’s surprised and Peter tries not to take it to heart that this kid doesn’t know who he is because he probably assumed - like a lot of people - that Derek had no family left.

“Pleasure.” Peter says before reaching a hand out.  Jackson takes it and shakes and it’s only when Peter looks into the boys eyes that he freezes, hand tightening. He feels Jackson try to pull away but Peter doesn’t release his grip. Those _eyes_ – so familiar. Peter scents the air, vaguely hears Derek calling his name but ignores him in favour of trying to place that scent. He catches it – vanilla and honeydew – beneath all that man made aftershave and leather. He didn’t think he’d ever catch a whiff of that scent again. Is this boy the reason why Derek phoned him and asked about the memory sharing process?  But surely Derek should know who this boy is; who his parents were after all Derek knew them.

“Peter!” Derek says, voice teetering on a growl. When Peter snaps his eyes over Derek’s stepped towards Jackson, body language both protective and offensive.  

Peter gently releases Jackson’s hand. The teen yanks it back to himself and rubs his fingers over the inside of his palm. Peter apologies and Jackson accepts it with a nod and wary eyes.

“I’ve gotta go – school.” Jackson identifies. Derek nods before placing a hand on Jackson’s lower back it’s subtle but poignant – _mine_. The kid smiles at Derek, this small private thing and Peter feels a pang of loss run through him. He’s missed looks like that, that feeling you first get when you start falling for someone. That hot swirl in your chest that feels simultaneously terrifying and wonderful.

Peter watches Jackson leave, driving away in a Porsche of all the things before he turns to Derek.

“When were you going to tell me you were seeing the Perry’s son?” Peter asks, aims for cool but he frowns when Derek shakes his head in confusion.

“He can’t be.” Derek says and he looks like he’s just had the ground ripped out from beneath his feet.

Peter’s frowns deepens. “Derek how could you not see it? _Those eyes_. How could you not smell it?”

Derek shakes his head, looking for all the world like he’s in denial. Like he’d do anything to forget this information that Peter’s thrust upon him.

“I was a child when I last saw the Perry’s.” Derek says and Peter nods.

“So he doesn’t know about what happened to his parents?”  Peter questions. Derek simply shakes his head.

“Then you have to tell him Derek.” Peter urges but all Derek can think is no. Because if Jackson finds out how his parents died he’ll be heartbroken. And then he’ll know that Derek knew and god – no he can’t – he _can’t._ Jackson’s the only good thing he’s had for a while and it may not be right, but he’s Derek’s and their good together so if Derek has to tell a little lie here or there – well it’s not as if he can add anymore guilt to his already overwhelmed conscious.

/

For the first time in a long time Jackson joins his parents for Sunday dinner where he forks at his food mentally psyching himself up to just ask the damn question.  He wants to know about his birth parents and if anyone has information on them it’ll be the Whittemore’s but Jackson doesn’t want them to think that he doesn’t appreciate them, that they’re in some way inadequate.

They’re everything he could hope for, their loving and doting without being suffocating and they’ve supported him to no end but there’s a part of him that wants to know about his roots about where he came from and that part of him has only grown since he found out he has werewolf blood running through his system. 

“Jackson honey is everything okay; you’ve barely touched your food.” His mother acknowledges and Jackson snaps out of his reverie to smile thinly at her.

“Actually I was just wondering about something.” He answers and his parents place their cutlery down giving him their full attention and for some reason that makes his chest feel tight and his throat clam up.

“I want to find my birth parents.” He admits, quickly so as not to hesitate and he can’t ignore the look of surprise on both their faces.

Its quiet for a few moments before his dad says ‘oh’.

“If you don’t want me to-.” He starts then stops at the almost thunderous look on his mothers face.

“Jackson we would never stop you from doing something as important as meeting your parents, that was why we told you we adopted you all those years ago so that you’d have the option, so you could choose whether or not you wanted to find them.”

“We don’t know much about them.” His father supplies. “When we adopted you we weren’t given your parent’s details and we didn’t think to ask, we just knew we wanted you. But if this is what you want; if you think you’re ready to meet them I can contact the adoption agency and see if we can find them.” David tells him and Jackson feels a thrum of nervousness.

“I would really appreciate that.” He says.  “This is okay with you two though right?”

His dad huffs out a laugh before smiling. “We just want you to be happy son.”  He replies and Jackson wants to say that he is but instead he just nods. 

They get back to their dinner soon after and fall into an easy conversation. When their done they play poker and Jackson’s winning for the second time when his mother comments on how they should take him to Vegas if this is the calibre he’s playing at. And it’s when his parents wish him a goodnight and he’s climbing into his bed that he realises it doesn’t matter whether their related or not the Whittemore’s love him all the same.

/

It turns out that David can’t get all of the information he requires. He may be a lawyer – one of the best in town but he’s seen as being emotionally invested in this case. He only finds out the couples name and where they lived. They lived in Long Beach which is so close Jackson feels a curdle of something cruel and sick bubble up in his stomach. His family are mere hours away. Jackson could have seen them a thousand times over by now. He wonders if they’ve come to see him, just to see how he turned out.

David apologises for only being able to find out that small amount of information. But it’s enough, more than enough. Now all Jackson has to do is go to Long Beach and try to find his parents.  Halfway through figuring out what he wants to wear when he meets them he wonders if he’s making the right choice. What if they don’t want to see him? Somewhere along the line – he doesn’t know where – this urge to find them and meet them doesn’t just boil down to him wanting to be a werewolf. It’s about him wanting to be accepted, about him figuring out why his family didn’t think he belonged with then.

His mum’s looking through plane tickets on the laptop with him when she asks if Jackson wants her to come with him. And he loves his mum he does but something deep inside his gut is telling him to ask Derek. Something’s telling him that he needs Derek there with him.  The part of him that is encouraging the fact that he seek out Derek’s company feels new, but it’s warm and Jackson trusts it enough to tell his mum that yes he’ll take two tickets but no she doesn’t have to come with him.

He prints off the confirmation e-mail, stating he’s brought two tickets before taking the print out over to Derek’s.

When he gets there Derek steps out onto the porch and Jackson smiles before climbing up the stairs, drawing Derek into a quick kiss. Derek takes a minute to respond but when he does, his lips are trembling a little and his hand lingers on the corner of Jackson’s jaw.

With their faces still pressed close together Jackson’s brows furrow.

“What’s wrong?”

Derek opens his mouth, closes it then swallows.

“You know I’d never do anything to hurt you – not willingly.”

Jackson tries to pull away but Derek just curls his fingers around his jaw tighter. Jackson reaches up, fits his fingers in-between Derek’s and gently pulls their hands away from his face.

“You’re kind of freaking me out.” Jackson admits with an awkward laugh, using their joint hands to half heartedly punch at Derek’s stomach. 

Derek shuts his eyes, he looks frustrated. “Just – you know that right?”

Jackson nods jaggedly. “Yeah...yeah of course I do. Derek what’s going on?”

Derek doesn’t say anything, just kisses Jackson and pushes him up against one of the porches beams.

Jackson knows him and Derek aren’t exactly A class talkers so if this is what Derek needs then he can do this. Can kiss and touch Derek until he feels better.

He tears his mouth away from Derek’s and gasps as he tips his head back and Derek’s teeth latch onto his throat where he starts to bite and suck at the supple skin, raising red welts beneath the pressure of his mouth.

Jackson starts pulling at Derek’s top and in turn Derek reaches for his belt buckle, his knuckles knocking into the folded piece of paper that Jackson has sticking out of his jean pocket.

“What’s that?” Derek mumbles against his temple.

The confirmation email for the plane tickets. Jackson had almost forgotten. Jackson reaches down to pull the piece of paper out of his pocket and Derek leans back enough to give Jackson room to maneuver.   

“It’s uh.” Jackson clears his throat suddenly feeling vulnerable.

“It’s a print out for plane tickets. I found... I found my parents.” Jackson says releasing a belated breath.

“I got two tickets. I was kinda hoping you would come with me.” When Derek doesn’t answer right away Jackson narrows his eyes and shrugs. “Or whatever you know, it doesn’t really bother me what you do.”

When Jackson chances a look at Derek he looks conflicted but Jackson doesn’t know why.

“Okay.” Derek croaks out and Jackson raises an eyebrow, confirmation letter held pre-cautiously between his fingers.

“Okay?” Jackson repeats.

“Yes, I’ll go with you.” Derek finalises and Jackson feels that storm inside him settle.  He thinks sometimes that it’s his wolf because every thought that manifests from this part of himself feels instinctual, feels linked to Derek.

They wait for their plane tickets to arrive in the mail and when their on the plane Derek turns to Jackson, face fitted into his usual austere expression.

“Jackson I don’t want you to get your hopes up about your parents. They could be nothing like you envisioned. They could be the exact opposite.” Derek stresses and Jackson shrugs.

“Or they could be everything I’ve been looking for my whole life.” Jackson easily replies and that same look that Derek had on his face at the Hale house a few weeks ago returns.

He never does bother to find out why Derek was asking questions about never hurting him intentionally, right now it seems unimportant.

/

Long Beach is a lot nicer than Beacon Hills. It’s sunny for one. The buildings are bigger, and there are more water fountains and flower beds – touristy.

They check into their hotel and Jackson makes Derek carry the bags up to their room. Once they’re there Jackson sits on the edge of the bed and reaches into his messenger bag.

“Okay so, all I’ve got is a name so I was thinking maybe we could ask around. See if the locals know them.”

“Jackson we just got here.” Derek protests.

 “I think we can sleep off our minor cases of jet lag later.” Jackson waves off Derek’s comment before continuing to look through his messenger bag pulling out a map of Long Beach.

“Or I could go to the City Hall, I’m sure they have some type of records there right? Or maybe -.”

“Jackson!”

Jackson jumps because Derek just bellowed his god damn name for no good reason. He looks up at Derek confused.

“What the hell is your problem?” Jackson snaps.

Derek takes a long time to answer. “I just think you’re rushing into this that’s all.” Derek relents but Jackson doesn’t need to be able to hear his heartbeat to know he’s lying. He doesn’t call him out on it though.

“It’s a bit late for that. Were here now. If you didn’t want to help me find my parents you could have just said, but by all means if this is ‘ _too rushed’_ for you, you can go back to Beacon Hills.” Jackson bites out before shoving the map into his bag and standing up.

He stalks towards the hotel door and leaves, slamming the door shut behind him and tries not to think about how it hurts when Derek doesn’t follow him.

/

Peter picks up on the third ring.

“Hello?” Derek doesn’t reply, doesn’t know what to say. Just breathes down the phone.

“Every man is guilty of all the good he did not do.” Peter quotes and Derek shuts his eyes, bows his head and internally begs for this feeling to stop.

“If I’d have known who he was, who his parents were I never would have gotten involved with him.” Derek confesses in a whisper, so quiet Peter almost struggles to hear it. He hears what Derek doesn’t voice though – how he’s in too deep now, how he can’t imagine not being with Jackson.

“Derek I know you care for him, but you know what happened to his parents. I left Beacon Hills when you asked me to on the condition that you tell Jackson about his parents. That was weeks ago and yet you haven’t.”

“Were in...were in Long Beach.”

“The Perry’s hometown?” Peter identifies and Derek nods though he knows his uncle can’t see.

Peter sighs. “Derek what are you doing? All you’re going to do is set this child up to be hurt. Sooner or later he’s going to figure this out and when he does he’s going to hate you.” Derek shuts his eyes at the words because he knows, _he knows_ Jackson will.  

“Would you rather him hate you for betraying him or for telling him the truth?” Peter asks and Derek wants to be selfish and say he wishes Jackson wouldn’t hate him at all, he wishes Jackson would never find out about what Derek knows.

Derek breathes out shakily.

“I’ll tell him.” He says.

/

Jackson doesn’t really visit the library. On the odd occasion he’ll go with Danny, just to keep his friend company and also to keep the pesky book boy away from his best friend.  The geeky book boy totally has a thing for Danny but in Jackson’s regard the book boy’s not good enough for his friend so Jackson likes to go along with Danny to the library and shake the little nerd up a bit. The day he stands up to Jackson is the day Jackson will admit that maybe he is good enough for Danny, hell he’ll even pay for them to go out for dinner.

This library is a lot bigger than the one in Beacon Hills.

Jackson gets a visitor username and password and logs into one of the library computers, waits whiles it loads and makes precautious humming noises. Seriously how old are these things?

He brings up an internet search engine and types in Maggie and Dale Perry. He isn’t expecting anything to come up so when it does Jackson stares frozen at the screen. He hasn’t even clicked on any links but already he can see the headlines on most of them – car crash – DOA.

Jackson’s heart feels like it’s going to beat out of his chest. He doesn’t remember clicking on the first link until he’s staring at the image of a totalled car and beside it two passport style photos of the man and women who died in the crash – his parents.

Jackson feels sick. They look just like him. It’s eerie.

Jackson reads, the words don’t feel like they’re registering but it’s all he can think about. His head feels like its pounding.

It says they were run off the road by a 4X4. That’s all the security footage saw but when they tried to scan the licence plate of the 4X4 they realised it was a fake number plate. All the windows on the car were tinted as well as if the driver knew there was a possibility they could be seen and they knew how to hide themselves.

His parents were murdered.  Jackson was still in his mother’s stomach when their car was flipped over and crushed to pieces.

It’s when Jackson reads what the police were baffled by that he freezes and realises the crash was his entire fault.

When the police got to the scene they found a circle of mountain ash around the car. Jackson knows what mountain ash does – Derek had told him. Not only does it keep supernatural creatures away it can also trap them. Had someone set out to kill his parents because they knew Jackson was a werewolf? But surely if they were after Jackson they would have killed him. They’ve had sixteen years to do it. Or maybe they were just after his parents.  A hunter killed his family. Derek was right. They all are the same. They don’t follow this code they have, they seek out people – families and destroy them.

That’s all it took, a few hastily typed words into an internet search engine. It seems so idiotically simplistic and he doesn’t know why it didn’t occur to him to do this at home. At least then he wouldn’t have the knowledge that he’s in the town his parents died in. Wouldn’t have the knowledge that this entire trip has been a waste of time, has been a countdown to him getting his heart broken.

Jackson’s eyes feel hot and wet – almost scalding and he realises he’s close to crying. He can feel his chest squeezing tight making it hard to breathe so he does what he always does. He runs.

He exits the library and just starts running. The tears start falling from his eyes but when he’s running with this much vigour he can pretend the tears are from exasperation and the brisk winds blowing into his eyes.

He’s by the beach and the sky is darkening when he trips over his own feet and falls onto the sand on his knees.

The roaring sound of the waves crashing against the dock washes out Jackson’s sobs.

/

Derek finds him and he doesn’t know how. He doesn’t want to question it, when he tries to speak, a pathetic broken cry leaves his mouth and he snaps it shut a moment later.

Derek leads him back to the hotel but Jackson’s spaced out. He feels like he’s losing time, one minute their by the beach, he closes his eyes and when he opens them again they’re in the elevator on the way up to their room.

It must have rained at one point because Jackson’s hair is plastered to his forehead and he reeks of rain water and sweat.

Derek leads him into the bathroom and Jackson stands there like a string less puppet as Derek organises towels and puts the shower on.

He chances a look in the mirror and grimaces at how he looks. His eyes are red rimmed, his expression lax and dead.

The room quickly fills with steam, blanketing their figures. Jackson’s glad for it because he’s so close to crying again.

“Jacks, you’re gonna get in the shower and I’ll order some room service and when you get out we can talk okay?”

Jackson doesn’t want to talk because then Derek will know that he was right. He should have listened to Derek in the first place and not got his hopes up. Nothing good ever happens to Jackson. The fact that he thought things could change is just laughable. Jacksons not a nice person so he isn’t going to get a chance to be happy. That’s just the way it is.

“Jackson?” When the teen doesn’t reply Derek begins removing his cloths and Jackson lets him only shifting enough when it’s clear that Derek needs a bit more help.  Derek kneels down and wraps his fingers around Jackson’s ankle, raising his foot as he uncurls Jackson’s jeans from around his leg and takes them off.

Jackson allows himself to be lead towards the shower but before Derek can walk away Jackson wraps his sweaty hand around Derek’s wrist and tugs. Getting the hint Derek removes his clothes and climbs into the shower after Jackson, warm strong hands brushing over Jackson’s forehead and hair as the teen closes his eyes.

“You found out what happened to them?” Derek asks and Jackson nods, feels a hot lump of sorrow clump together in his throat. No matter how much he swallows it won’t go.

“Their dead. The news paper article said there was a ring of mountain ash around them. A hunter killed them Derek.” He says, voice hitching on Derek’s name. He opens his eyes. “They died and I survived, how is that fair?” Jackson asks and Derek asks himself that same question every day.

“Sometimes fate can be cruel that way.”  Derek eventually answers because it’s the only bit of advice he can offer, the only type of condolence.

Derek swallows. “Look Jackson I need to tell you something -.”

“No.” Jackson says, voice absolute. “Just... just make me forget.”

“How?” Derek whispers.

Jackson closes the small space between them, feels hot water slide down his back, condensation thick in the shower. He leans forwards and their lips catch.

“Touch me, just touch me.” He pleads, so Derek does.

/

Derek met Kate when he was fifteen years old. It wasn’t a fairy tale romance. He was an adolescent not an idiot. He knew how relationships were supposed to be and he knew that what he had with Kate wasn’t healthy. It was feral and rough but it was the closest thing to a relationship Derek had ever had. And there was something about her that made him happy, that made him wake up and think of her and just smile because she was his.  Until one day Derek realised that she wasn’t. Kate wasn’t anyone’s but her own. She was dangerous and mirth filled and she slaughtered Derek’s family without a second thought.

That was ten years ago now.

Ten years ago the Hale pack was one of the most respected in California and other packs large or small would visit from around California and socialise with the Hale’s, would seek advice from Talia.

Derek met the Perry’s on a sunny Sunday afternoon where Talia was hosting a barbeque for several packs that lived in the surrounding towns. He remembers meeting the Perry’s and talking to Maggie, about how one day she could have a pup of her own, how she was planning to have many just like Derek’s mom. Derek remembers her scent, that sweet vanilla and her eyes – wide and blue – almost dream like you could get lost in them- Jackson’s eyes.

He’d been in New York with Laura when they heard of the news about the Perry’s. About how they were run down by a truck. The fake licence plate didn’t fool him. He knew the car belonged to Kate, he knew the vehicle inside and out. Himself and Kate made love for the first time in the front seat, Derek’s jeans shoved down around his ankles as she’d ridden him.

He knew what happened to Jackson’s family, he’s known this entire time. He just didn’t know who Jackson was. But instead of telling the truth he’s continued the lie and he can’t come clean about it now because he let Jackson seek his parents out, let him allow himself to be vulnerable for nothing and if Jackson ever finds out that Derek put him in a position such as this he’ll hate him.

He never even considered the possibility of meeting Jackson, let alone becoming this involved with him – caring about him.

He doesn’t want to lie to Jackson but he knows that if he tells him the truth, he’ll lose him.  And maybe he doesn’t need to tell Jackson the truth, the whole reason why they came out here was to find Jackson’s parents so Jackson could ascend into a wolf. The thing is though now Jackson knows what happened to his parents he still hasn’t shifted, so maybe him being adopted wasn’t what was stopping him from ascending and if Derek brings up more about his parents he’ll just be causing Jackson unnecessary pain.  That’s what he tells himself anyway when he watches Jackson sniffle in his sleep in the hotel room, what he tells himself when Jackson’s silent the entire plane ride back to Beacon Hills.

/

Derek comes through his bedroom window on a Wednesday night, its way after midnight so his parents are fast asleep and Jackson should be because he’s got school tomorrow but he hasn’t been sleeping lately.

Derek doesn’t ask if he’s okay, Jacksons glad – he doesn’t have the energy to lie.  But Jackson isn’t in the mood for company either.

“What do you want?” Jackson asks not looking away from his chemistry textbook that’s been sitting in his lap for the past half hour.

Derek’s silent for a while, his figure forming a shadow across Jackson’s bedroom wall.

“Just came to see you.” Derek admits finally and Jackson snorts before looking up from his text book, an empty smile on his face. “Well you’ve seen me.” He says slamming his book shut. “Now you can go.”

“You can’t avoid me forever. You’re hurt and you need to talk about it.” Jackson grits his teeth, stands up roughly. “What do you know about how I’m feeling?” He seethes, struggling to keep his voice down. When he’s not feeling grief he’s angry, angry beyond reason and he has nothing to focus his anger on.

Derek shakes his head. “I know about loss Jackson. I know how you feel.”

“If you know how I’m feeling you would know I wanna be left alone.” Jackson reasons because he doesn’t want to fight with Derek, Derek’s the last person he wants to fight with. He can feel that same warmth inside of him – the one that craves Derek’s acceptance – it feels heavy now – heavy and sad and it whines when Derek’s not close, scratches against his chest like its begging for him to search the older man out and accept his comfort.

“Just let me be here for you.” Derek says, quiet like he knows if he says anything that will make Jackson seem weak the teen will push him away.

“Show me.” Jackson says and Derek frowns, perplexed. “Show you what?” The werewolf asks.

“You said you know about pain. You’ve seen mine and I want to see yours. Show me what happened to your family.” It’s a heavy ask and Derek doesn’t know if Jackson’s asking it in the hopes that Derek will feel pressurised and leave or he’s asking because he wants to know, needs to know that someone else has been through what he’s going through, that someone else truly understands.

Jacksons sure Derek’s not going to accept his request so he begins to turn away from the older man when he feels fingers lock around his wrist.

“I’ve never shown anyone this.” Derek says, words heavy and Jackson nods, slipping out of Derek’s hold so he can link their fingers together.

“You can trust me.” Jackson replies and Derek nods jerkily before pressing his forehead to Jackson’s.  His free hand curls around Jackson’s neck, sharpened nails tapping at the skin.

“Ready.” Derek whispers and Jackson shuts his eyes, forces out a breath, nods and then he’s lost.

The memories bombarding him are stronger and more painful than any of the dreams he had.  He knows he’s shaking but how he’s reacting psychically feels like it’s been pushed onto the back burner because his head feels like it’s being split in two.  He can feel Derek pulling at him, face shoved into his neck when images of Kate come into his mind. Of Kate smiling and flirting with _Derek._  And Jackson’s so confused because how could Kate be flirting with Derek. He was a werewolf, she was a hunter. Soon it becomes abundantly clear why she was flirting with him when she admits to knowing what he is.  Jackson knows the story from there – the fire – the mountain ash – the blood and screams and tears but what he didn’t know was the guilt and sorrow and wrath that Derek carried with him, but he sees it all, he feels it all and it hurts, much more than Jackson would have imagined.

When the memories stop he isn’t snapped away from them like he was when Derek looked into his mind instead his mind goes peacefully blank for a few seconds and when he slowly opens his eyes, his forehead is still pressed to Derek’s but the werewolves looking down, eyelashes glittery and wet with tears, mouth slightly open, lip trembling. 

And Jackson feels like shit, he feels selfish and self centred because he just made Derek relive the worst moment of his life all because Jackson didn’t want to feel alone in his misery.

“Hey, look at me.”  Derek doesn’t so Jackson uses his fingers to tilt Derek’s chin up. Derek’s eyes are glowing blue but they look sad, like he’s given up.

“Look in my eyes and listen to my heart.” Jackson orders briskly. “None of that was your fault, you hear me and Kate – she’ll get what’s coming to her. I promise you that.” When Derek doesn’t say anything Jackson rubs his thumb over Derek’s side burn, over his hair line. “Yeah?” Jackson asks and Derek nods, leans forward and kisses Jackson.

Jackson doesn’t know how long they stand there for, in this tight almost crushing embrace but his arms start to cramp and he pulls away slowly. “Stay.” He says against Derek’s lips. “Okay.” Derek replies then their stripping down to their boxers and climbing under the covers, both lying on their sides, facing one another.

“Thank you for showing me that, I know it couldn’t have been easy.”

“It wasn’t.” Derek admits before he reaches over, cups the back of Jackson’s neck.  “But a little pain is worth it if you don’t have to alone in yours.”

Jackson kisses Derek, sweet and frantic, mouth hot and wet.

He falls asleep with Derek’s heat beside him and it’s the best night’s sleep he’s had in weeks.

/

Jacksons not okay and he’s not going to pretend that he is. He drinks, enjoys the numbness it brings even if it is only temporary.

The entire trip to Long Beach was a waste of time, was a drainage of Jackson’s emotions. Now he just feels empty. His only family is dead – no – they were murdered and he has no idea who killed them. He wants to know who killed them so he can get his revenge, so he can put the murderer through the pain that Jackson’s been through.

He’s no closer to becoming a wolf than he was when he left for Long Beach. Derek said that he didn’t understand how he hadn’t shifted yet but it was honestly the last thing on Jackson’s mind. He’d just found out his parents had been murdered simply for being who they were – something they had no control over and here was Jackson striving to be the very thing that got his parents killed. It was the cruellest type of irony. 

He’s at the school on the field, bottle of scotch by his feet and lacrosse stick in hand. He doesn’t know when he stopped attempting to get the balls into the net and just started whacking the stick onto the ground. He beats it down so harshly that he can feel vibrations wrack up through his arms but he continues anyway.

The tension builds – the sadness -the frustration – the helplessness until all that’s left is a fragile sixteen year old.  Jackson cries again and he wonders when he’ll stop mourning, when this gaping angry hole of emptiness will alleviate. 

He leaves the school, chucking his lacrosse stick into the back of his truck.  He’s rubbing at his sore tear wet eyes when he feels that eerie sensation – that sensation of being watched.

The next thing he feels is a pinprick of pain in his neck and his fingers tremble as he moves them to his neck and feels a dart sticking out from his flesh.

He passes out before he reaches the floor.

/

Derek’s voice is frantic across the line when Peter answers. His voice isn’t shaking, or rushed, or raised but Peter knows his nephew well enough to know when he’s forcing himself to stay calm.

“What’s wrong?” Peter asks immediately.

“It’s Jackson. I think he’s missing. He hasn’t answered his calls and he isn’t at home, or the school or anywhere. He isn’t anywhere. I don’t know where else to look!” Derek says and Peter feels his own heart pick up a bit.

“Calm down Derek we’ll figure this out. When was the last time you saw him?”

“Two days ago.” Derek answers and Peter hides back a wince, if that was truly the last time Derek saw him anything could have happened by now.

“You have to find Kate Derek. If she knows what Jackson is its more than likely that’s she’s the one who has him. But you can’t go in there alone, you have to wait for me. I can be there in four hours.” Peter says.

“If Kate’s got him then Jackson doesn’t have four hours.” Derek says and before Peter can calm him down the sound of the dial tone runs through his ear. He curses before getting up and heading for his car and heading to Beacon Hills and if he breaks a couple of traffic laws on the way well, he can deal with a few fines.

/

Derek can’t wait. Jacksons in danger and it’s all his fault. He never should have dragged the teen into this but if Kate truly does have him she could have done anything.  But Derek needs help so he calls Scott, who brings Stiles and both teens meet him at the Hale house.

“What do you mean Allison’s aunt has Jackson?” Scott asks and Derek honestly doesn’t know how he can be more clear on the subject.

“Why would a werewolf hunter kidnap a teenage boy?” Stiles queries then something seems to clicks into place in his brain and Derek will admit no matter how irritating Stiles can be at times, he is smart and Derek can practically see the gears shifting in his head. “Unless.” Stiles says as he looks up at Derek. “Unless Jackson’s a werewolf.”

Derek’s mouth goes tight and that’s all the confirmation the other two teens need.

“Wait, what!” Scott outrages. “Jackson a werewolf, how? That doesn’t make any sense. Did the Alpha bite him too?” 

Derek shakes his head. “Jacksons a born wolf. I figured out what he was and I started helping him in activating his wolf because it was dormant.”

“Suppressed Lycanthropy. That’s actually a thing? Who would’ve thought?” Stiles says with a huff, it sounds more exhausted than anything and Derek doesn’t blame him, there’s so much folklore and rules and myths when it comes to the world of the supernatural and it’s exhausting.

“So what are we going to do? How are we going to help him?” Scott asks and he sounds worried and its times like these that Derek’s reminded of how kind Scott is. Himself and Jackson aren’t friends, if anything their enemies yet Scott’s willing to help him.

“We have to find out where Kate’s keeping him.” Derek identifies and Stiles snaps his fingers.

“Jackson’s phone. If he’s still got it on we can activate the GPS and find his location.” Derek looks at him impressed because he hadn’t even thought to do that. Stiles must take account to Derek’s expression because he smirks. “Hey I aint just a pretty face.”

Derek rolls his eyes. “Just find him.” Derek orders and Stiles rolls his eyes before demanding Derek’s phone. Derek hands it over without a word and watches as Stiles types on it much more quickly than Derek’s ever managed to.

After a few seconds Stiles ‘ _Ahha’s’_  before showing the phone to Derek. On the screen are a series of numbers – a postcode. “He’s at an abandoned train station.” Stiles informs and Derek turns ready to travel there when Scott speaks up.

“Derek were going to need help.” Scott declares.

“My uncle will be here soon, in the mean time we can go down there and help Jackson.”

“Derek.” Scott says and his voice sounds deeper, firm. Derek stops and turns to face him.

“We need help now. This isn’t just about us anymore. It’s about Jackson and if what you’ve said about Kate and this Alpha is true then not only does she have a personal arsenal, she’s got an Alpha werewolf on her side, a pissed Alpha werewolf that follows her every command. We need help.” Derek doesn’t want to admit it but they do. But he can’t wait for Peter; they’ve already lost so much time from Derek having to explain the Alpha situation to them to them trying to find Jackson.  But there’s no point in finding Jackson if there just going to die the moment they enter those train car doors.

“Who did you have in mind?” Derek asks and Scott looks reluctant.

“Mr. Argent.” He says quietly and Derek wants to curse, so he does. “No fucking way.”

“Derek he’s the only one who can help us stop Kate. The only person strong enough to bring a hunter down. He knows how she works.” Scott says, voice rising.

“Jackson is going to die if you don’t put your petty vendetta aside.” Scott says and Derek swallows because he doesn’t want that, that’s the whole reason why he called Scott and Stiles in the first place.

“He could be working with her for all we know.” Derek says.

“We don’t know until we try Derek.” Stiles quietly says, eyes open and earnest and no just no Derek will never trust an Argent again.

“No.” Derek says with a scowl.

“Derek-. “ Scott tries.

“No. I don’t trust them Scott and neither should you. Go home. I’ll help Jackson on my own.”

Before Scott can say anymore Derek’s dropping down to all fours and running from the house.  Scott sighs before turning to face Stiles.

“Were still going to Mr. Argent right?” Stiles says and Scott nods. “Yup.” Stiles nods. “Thought so.”

/

When Jackson wakes up the first thing he registers is that his head feels heavy and muggy. He can hear water dripping a little ways away in the distance and he groans softly as he attempts to sit up however can’t move his wrists. That knowledge is enough to have him opening his eyes. His hands are bound with chains to a wall.

He panics, breath leaving him in fast stutters as he pulls at his binds. Each time he yanks on the chains pain shoots through his temple and he can feel his neck is swollen around where it was pierced with a dart.

The chains pull at his wrists, digging into the bone but he doesn’t relent just keeps pulling until he hears the click of heels.

Kate comes walking down the stairs, smirk in place as she twirls keys around her index finger – keys he assumes are for his chains.

“Kate.” He sneers and she smiles, glee filled.

“So Derek told you about me.”  She says.

“Just what I needed to know.” Jackson informs.  

She shakes her head and tsks. “Derek Hale, that one was always a bit vague.”

Jackson wants to tear her head off, because she killed Derek’s family and she’s not even sorry about it. It’s almost as if she revels in it.

“If you let me go now I won’t tell my father about this.” Jackson states and Kate laughs.

“You know he’s a lawyer right, he’ll prosecute your ass.”  Jackson growls.

Kate sighs. “Oh sweetheart, when I’m done with you you’ll be in far too many pieces for even your own daddy to recognise you.”

Jackson feels a cold line of fear run down his spine. He stills.

“Why are you doing this?” He asks.

She shrugs. “Because you’re a werewolf and I’m a hunter – tis the way.”

Kate tortures him. Jackson’s embarrassed to say he passes out vaguely quickly. She cuts and bruises and burns him and when she sees he isn’t healing she frowns and asks him why.

“Something’s blocking...-“Jackson swallows and his mouth makes a sticky noise. “Something’s blocking me from ascending. I don’t know what it is.”

Kate cocks an interested eyebrow, before running the flat of her blade over Jackson’s chest. He can’t even remember her taking his top off. Did it happen before or after he passed out from the pain?

“Lucky for you Jackson that I’ve got a wolf that can go through your memories for you.” She informs with a smile.

Jackson’s head shoots up and he winces as his muscles protest. Another werewolf? Did she capture Derek too?

Kate dips the knife, pushes the end into his skin ever so slightly. Jackson grunts, grits his teeth and pushes air out through his teeth.

Kate pulls the knife away before standing and inclining her head to the side.

“You can come in now.” She says and the last thing Jackson’s expecting is for a girl to amble in.

She looks young, younger than Jackson.  He doesn’t know whether to be scared of her or scared for her. She clearly trembles when she’s beside Kate but the girl has blood strewn across her hair and mouth, fingernails broken and dirty. She’s adorned in a petite white lace dress that has dusty streaks all over it, feet torn up with blood blisters all over them.

“Jackson meet Hannah. I think you may have met before, in the woods.” Kate says, voice low and titled like she knows something Jackson doesn’t.

Jackson looks over to the girl – Hannah and her eyes flash red.

Jackson tries to scoot back but the chains drag him back down. Those eyes. This girl - _she’s_ the Alpha?

“You’re the Alpha, the one who killed Derek’s sister?” Jackson spits.

She opens her mouth, eyes bleeding guilt. Kate raises the knife and looks to Hannah.

“Search his memories before I use this on you.” She threatens and it’s then that it becomes clear. Kate’s been using Hannah to kill all these people. Jackson still doesn’t know why, but now he knows that Kate’s using torture as a means to control Hannah, if the way that she automatically moves towards Jackson is any indication.

He never saw what Derek did the last time he searched through Jackson’s memories but this time he sees everything. Sees Hannah unsheathe her claws and sink them into the back of his neck.

He cries out and fights against her. She sees everything.  Jackson trying to find his parents, his need for acceptance, his relationship with Derek.  It hurts, it feels like every memory is being pulled out of his brain and sieved through a colander that is three times too small to contain Jackson’s thoughts.

When Hannah pulls her hand away, claws catching on his skin, leaving bloody cuts behind Jackson slumps to the ground and moans pitifully.

“He’s with that other werewolf, the one you shot.” Hannah says and he can practically hear Kate’s confusion.

“Their together. _Romantically_?”  Kate asks, words lashing off of her tongue like acid.

Jackson can’t see but he assumes Hannah nods because a few seconds later Kate laughs.

“Oh that is just precious. “ She uses the toe of her boot to lift his head, he allows it, is too weak to protest.

“Two animals going at it. I bet he treats you real sweet doesn’t he? You probably flush so pretty under his hands, under his _tongue._ ” She leers before grinning. “Trust me sweetheart I know from experience what Derek Hale is like in bed.” Jackson’s horror stricken and he suddenly feels sick. He doesn’t even have the sense to tell Kate that him and Derek haven’t even slept together yet, he’s too hung up on the blatant way she discusses her and Derek’s past relations.  

Jackson wants to hit her – tell her to shut up – anything but then Hannah speaks up again.

“Jacksons adopted. Him and the other werewolf thought that if they could find Jackson’s birth parents they could activate the wolf in him.”

Kate sneers. “Birth parents huh, so there’s more of you. I swear you werewolves are like damn cockroaches. I squash some of you but somehow there’s always more of you to take their place.”

“What’s his parents names?” Kate asks Hannah.

“The Perry’s.”

Jackson didn’t think Kate could look anymore malevolent but he was wrong.

She grins, it’s cruel and wide, like the cat that got the cream as she turns to look down at Jackson.

“Oh this is just too good.” She concedes with a huff.

Jackson pushes himself up onto his hands, feels his wrists strain. “What are you talking about?” He asks.

“I was the one who killed your parents. Smashed my four by four right into them. Covered their car in Wolfsbane and stood on the side lines as the car toppled over, as they took their last breaths.”

Jackson can’t explain what happens to him. He feels rage.  It’s not white hot. It’s a deep crimson, it pulses through his veins and pounds against the inside of his skull. He feels powerful and weak all at once. His back arches and he can feel his bones begin to snap and rotate and he cries out as they shift, bone marrow rubbing together, stretching his muscles beyond comprehension.

Every inch of his body is shifting, becoming larger and stronger. He feels hair – scratchy and thick sprout out from his side burns. He screams and half way through it turns into a deep feral growl that reverberates through his throat, shaking his chest.

The only thing resounding in his head is – kill kill kill. He growls and his head snaps over to Kate and he wants to rip her apart, to sink his teeth into her jugular and tear the inner’s of her throat out and just keep biting until he can see bone. He wants her to hurt. He wants to sink his claws into her, to rip and pull at her veins until she begins to feel some of the pain she’s caused him.

Kate looks shocked; through the blood rushing through his head Jackson can hear her heartbeat.

He thrashes against his bonds and he hears a creek before one of them comes loose. Its then that Kate pulls out a gun and aims it at him.  The sound is what registers first. The bang, just like the one in the forest. Except this time he’s the one being shot, right in his chest and it hurts, it _burns_. He can hear himself whimpering like a dog – pathetic and weak. He’s finally come face to face with his parents killer and he can’t even get up, can’t do anything but sob and writhe on the floor as the bullet burns through his chest. He should be healing! Why isn’t he healing?

“Feel that?” Kate asks, she’s kneeling again, hand gripping Jackson’s hair. “That’s Wolfsbane. Nordick Monkshood. Come sunrise you’ll be dead.” She whispers, mouth breathing hotly over Jackson’s forehead. She grins. “I told you dangerous things lurk in the woods Jackson.” Is the last thing he hears before he passes out.

/

There’s a tickling sensation at the back of his neck, thin wispy strands, like grass. Jackson slowly opens his eyes and sees a vast blue sky above him and clouds so thin, they almost look smoky.

He pauses and frowns, tries to think back because he doesn’t remember how he got here. But everything before he opened his eyes feels fuzzy and muted and when he attempts to think back on it all that happens is that he gets a splitting headache, so he dismisses that idea for the moment and sits up gingerly.

There’s grass all around him, he’s wearing all white and no shoes, his toes sinking into the soft sun warm grass. He closes his eyes, shudders at the feel of contentment. He feels calm for the first time in a long time, inside and out. His head isn’t swimming with thoughts; it’s wholesome and controlled – calm.  He tips his head back and spreads his fingers in the grass.  He only startles when he hears his name being called but he doesn’t recognise the voice.  It’s a woman but her voice is light and loving as if she’s said his name many times before.

He opens his eyes and looks ahead and about ten feet away are two figures, one male one female and Jackson stops still because he recognises those people – their his parents. The first time he’d seen their faces was in a photo from the newspaper article their car accident was printed on. He didn’t think he’d ever see their faces again, wasn’t prepared for how he’d feel or what he’d say.

Words elude him but somehow he doesn’t think he has to say anything. He drifts to them, feet numb but light as if he’s floating and when he reaches them he sobs.

“Mom.” She smiles, small and sweet, eyes blue and longing.

“Yes pumpkin, it’s me.”

He looks to his dad and his dad smiles and all Jackson can think is ‘ _so that’s where I got my dimples from_ ’. His mom puts her arms out, creating a cradling embrace for him to get into. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited to hold you, I didn’t think I’d ever be able to.” His mom says and Jackson cries, shakes, is pretty sure he says ‘ _me too’_ but can’t be certain.

The moment he pushes forward to go into her arms he’s snapped away from her, from his dad, from this paradise he woke up in and all the memories from before come back. Kate, the blood, the pain, the Wolfsbane. He screams, not at the pain but because this is the second time he’s been taken away from his parents.

He looks down at his chest and watches as blood splurges out, thick and warm. He’s shaking, gasping out coughs, skin pale with black veins protruding beneath the surface of his flesh. He whimpers, begs for mercy, for release, for a way for him to escape this hell. He feels fingers stroking his hair and smells blood, but it smells old – it’s not his own. It hurts but he looks up and sees Hannah. He wants to snarl, to get her to stop touching him but he can see black veins travelling up her arms and the pain in him settles a little.

“I’m sorry.” Hannah whispers as she cries and Jackson wants to say what for? Because he’s dying. If this is what he has to look forward to if he lives then he’d rather die. He doesn’t want to be like Hannah – doesn’t want to be exploited or hunted for simply being born a different way. He doesn’t want to have anymore relationships based around lies. Doesn’t want the pain and humiliation of trying too hard and failing time and time again. He thinks when death comes it’ll be peaceful. It still doesn’t explain why he’s so terrified though, why the thought of his heart stopping sends him into fits of cold dejection.

“Why...why are you helping me?” Jackson manages to ask. He’s curious.

“I’m not here by my own free will. And Kate’s taken away things from me too. I can’t save you but I can help with the pain.”

Jackson shakes his head, confused. “What do you mean she’s taken things from you?”  He gasps out. He can feel the Wolfsbane spreading, making him weak but he can’t seem to retract his fangs or claws, their protruded almost as if his wolf’s making a last ditch effort to scare away predators. It didn’t work when Kate shot him, it definitely won’t work now.

“She took my family. She tortured me until I obeyed her. She’s taken everything from me.” Hannah admits and her voice sounds, drib and dead much like how Jackson had sounded when he’d found out about his parents. And he can’t stand it, can’t handle hearing somebody else in pain. Someone younger than him, someone innocent.

With a great deal of effort he grunts and sits up, ignoring Hannah’s pleas that he relax and lie back down.  He groans and gags when he sees more blood leak out through his stomach.

“I’m getting you out of here. Were both getting out of here.”  He affirms and Hannah looks at him like he’s crazy.

“Jackson, you’re dying.” She says and he nods. “I know and if it takes every last breath I got, I’m gonna get you out of this place.” He says with finality and sincerity.  

If Hannah hadn’t of already been crying Jackson knows she would have started. She sniffles but smiles and for the first time, she looks happy and hopeful and Jackson thinks that if he can do one good thing before he dies, if he can save one person then at least his life wasn’t a total waste of time.

“How are we going to get out of here?” Hannah asks and Jackson smirks through his coughs.

“Well first things first.” He says before shaking his wrists, the metal around them clanking loudly. “We have to get me out of these cuffs.”

/

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, I had most of this written so it didn’t take too long to get out but I have nothing prepared for the next chapter and I’ve been super busy lately so just a fair warning that it may take a little while to get the next chapter up but thank you all for being super supportive about this fic and giving me time to write it! 
> 
> Dolorous Doll
> 
> X


	4. Valediction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so I’m a terrible person and have taken ages to get this out I know. I’m sorry. I’ve just been crazy busy with working and the gym and bluhhh who needs to work out anyway. 
> 
> Thank you all for being so patient with me and super supportive with this story. I hope you enjoy the final instalment. 
> 
> Much love. 
> 
> Dolorous Doll
> 
> X

“I’m surprised you hadn’t seen the connection before.” Stiles says, leg jiggling in impatience as he waits for the traffic light before him to turn green.

“I’m surprised you did.” Scott counters and Stiles scrunches up his face, shrugs, and breathes out a sharp relieved breath when the light finally changes.

“I couldn’t sleep one night and my dad left all the case files out so I looked through them.” Stiles explains.

“And they said Allison’s aunt was the one who murdered the Hales?”Scott asks and Stiles rolls his eyes. “Of course it didn’t say that but all the evidence compiled shows that yeah – yeah she did.”  Stiles answers, with a sigh.

Scott is oddly silent for a while and Stiles has known him long enough to be able to sense when his best friend isn’t feeling well even if he is looking at the road instead of at Scott. He chances a quick look at his friend and sees him frowning, staring down at his hands.

“Scott?”

Scott shakes his head distractedly. “Derek was right.” Scott admits, he sounds reluctant to even say it and almost sad.

“Right about what?”

“He told me that this is what Allison’s family does, what Allison would do and I thought it was ridiculous because it’s Allison - you know? She wouldn’t hurt a fly. But then I saw all the weapons at her house and how good she is with a crossbow – God Stiles you should see it, it’s unreal she’s like Buffy on steroids. I just... I know her family hunts people like me but I can’t give her up.”

Stiles loves Scott he really does but sometimes his best friend is an idiot.

“Scott, believe me you and Allison are the real thing. Like Romeo and Juliet just with less maiming and ritualistic murder suicide. Actually you’re nothing like Romeo and Juliet.” Scott sends him a wide eyed look, like he’s pleading for Stiles to either make this better or shut up.

“Okay clearly this metaphor isn’t working.” Stiles agrees with a sigh before he swallows remembering something. “My mom once told me that love isn’t easy and if it was then it wouldn’t be so rare. You and Allison that’s love buddy and nothing can come between that, not some crazy Alpha who bit you, not Derek Hale, not a family of nut job hunters, not anything.  You and Allison are supposed to be together, so...you’ll be together.”

Both teens are silent the only sound the resounding rumbling of the jeep’s engine.

“Stiles?”

“Yeah buddy?”

“You’re a great friend.” Scott says with sincerity, a small affectionate smile on his face.

Stiles breaths a laugh out through his nose. “You...do not tell me that enough.” Stiles admits.

Scott’s smile falters a little and his brows furrow before a look of determination crosses his features.

“Well now I’ll do it more often.” Scott promises.

“I’ll hold you to that, if we survive tonight.” Stiles says, he aims for light-hearted but Scott can smell the uncertainty and anxiety on him.

Destination reached, Stiles parks up outside of Mr. Argents house.

“We’ll survive.” Scott says and he sounds so sure Stiles is almost compelled to believe him.

/

The chains are easy enough to break the only problem is the noise it will cause but Jackson feels groggy and his ears are muted so when Hannah breaks the chains the sound echoes numbly, almost distant but he knows it’s loud because Hannah winces and shoots a worried look over her shoulder.

“Where is she?” Jackson slurs, stumbling and landing awkwardly on his side when Hannah attempts to lift him up.

“Come on Jackson.” She whispers frantically. “Where is she?” Jackson repeats bowing his increasingly heavy head. Blood dribbles like thick syrup from his mouth, hot and stringy as it drips and falls onto the concrete ground.

“I don’t know.” Hannah answers. She finally manages to get Jackson on his feet, her superior strength the only thing keeping him up.

They stumble down the narrow train car, stepping over shattered glass and odd debris. The pain Jackson is in is unfathomable, his body is becoming numb, shutting down in an attempt to block out some of the pain but somehow the only thing he can focus on is the fact that Hannah is barefoot and walking over glass.

“I can’t-. “ Jackson chokes out, teeth gritting together as a spike of pain shoots up through his chest. He starts to fall to the floor, feeling Hannah help him slide down more smoothly so that he’s leant up against the wall.

Jackson brings trembling fingers to his bloody wound and it’s there and then that he realises that he’s going to die. He’s a sixteen year old newly discovered werewolf and he’s going to die from a bullet wound in an abandoned train depot, with a stranger by his side.

The things that Jackson wanted, the things that seemed important before seem so trivial now. Popularity. Strength. Now all he wants is David and Sophie. Is Danny and Lydia. Is _Derek._ And now he feels stupid because all he can think about is Derek and how the older man has already lost so much and if Jackson dies then the teen’s just going to add to Derek’s anguish and that isn’t fair because Derek deserves everything in this world and Jackson wants to give it to him and it’s a deep voiding ache to know that he won’t be able to because he’s dying.

“Get out of here.” Jackson orders, opening his bleary eyes to gaze at Hannah.

“I’m not leaving without you.” She says with conviction, eyes glowing red for the barest of moments.

“I’m dying. I’m no use to anyone.” He whispers.

“You’re dying and you’re still trying to help me. If that isn’t proof enough that you’re important, I don’t know what is.”

Jackson reaches out blindly, pawing at Hannah’s arm until she clasps his hand, gently rubs her thumb over his wrist bone.

“Tell me about your family.” Jackson requests.

Hannah uses her free hand to wipe a bit of blood off from around Jackson’s mouth. “What do you want to know?” She asks.

Jackson inhales in a shuddering breath.

“Anything.” He says, and then thinks on it. “Everything.” He amends.

/

“Are you trying to tell me that my sister has a sixteen year old boy captured somewhere and is making an attempt on his life.”

Stiles pouts his lips out slightly, fingers spreading as he waves his hands out in front of him, leaning forward on the tips of his toes.

“Well when you say it like that it sounds kind of crazy but this is Beacon Hills so you know ...anything’s possible.” Stiles starts strong but murmurs towards the end when Chris raises a condescending eyebrow at him.

Mr. Argent’s eyes are steely blue. “I think you should both leave and we can pretend you didn’t just accuse my sister of the murder of several innocent people.”

“Why are you playing around this?” Scott says with disbelief, voice raised in agitation. “Stiles has given you all the proof you need. A family of three were attacked about two months ago, the parents were killed but they never found the daughter. You know why? Because Kate has her and she’s been using her to kill all the people who knew about the fire at the Hale house. This thing is bigger than all of us, Jackson is in trouble and if we don’t help him he’s going to die and right now it doesn’t matter what Kate did it matters that another innocent person is going to _die._  And if you can’t see that then we’re wasting our time here.”  

Scott places a gentle hand on Stiles’ wrist ready to lead him out they hear a voice behind them.

“Wait.” They turn to the source of the voice and see Allison, her jaw is set in a hard line and her eyes tinted with unshed tears.  She’s carrying a duffel in her hand, the black bag swinging lightly by her knee.

“I don’t know if what you’re saying about Aunt Kate is true but if Jackson’s in trouble I’m going to help.” She says.

“Allison-.” Her dad begins but she cuts him off.

“Dad – don’t. You’ve kept secrets from me for years and now that I do know about us being hunters I’m not going to be ignorant to someone who needs me.”

Scott smiles at her, indulgent and proud.

“Let’s go.” He says and Stiles and Allison nod before following Scott through the door.

When their by the car Stiles runs a hand over his buzzcut. “Ok so I feel like we need weapons, a taser maybe, possibly a baseball bat?”  He says and Allison reaches into her duffel, draws her crossbow and smirks at him.

“Trust me, I’ve got everything we need.”

/

When Derek gets to the train depot he can feel his heart thundering inside his chest. The trains are too low underground for him to really pick up on any sounds and the air is so thick with fumes that he can’t scent Jackson but when he looks at his phone the GPS is blipping slightly indicating he’s at his desired location.

It’s times like these where Derek knows he has to face his past that he feels vulnerable. He has no idea what’s waiting for him on the other side of those doors but the only thing he’s certain of is that he’s going to get Jackson and keep him safe. And when Jackson’s finally back in his arms he’s going to tell him the truth, about knowing who his parents were, about  how they’d died and if Jackson can’t forgive him at least he’ll know Derek was honest with him.

Derek steps cautiously until he’s by a large sliding metal door. The hinges look rusty, they’ll defiantly make noise the moment Derek attempts to open the door. He strains his hearing and tries to listen past the door but its thick and there’s too many emotions swimming around in him that he can’t concentrate, not fully. There’s too much to think about.

Derek curls his fingers around the large handle of the door and pulls it back. His suspicions were right, the door groans loudly. It makes him want to wince but instead he cocks his head and listens in. So far all he can hear are water droplet’s falling down onto concrete no doubt from a busted pipe.  Derek attempts to calm himself and remember his mother’s teachings.  Clear your head. Control your breathing. Use your senses.

The heartbeats are what registers next. One steady and sure and Derek doesn’t have to guess twice to know that’s Kate’s.  Another, loud and rabbit quick- worried. That could be Jackson but then there’s another this one sluggish, the beats heavy set and far apart.  He tries to judge how far apart the heartbeats are from one another but it’s too difficult to tell. Derek steps further into the train depot and has a fleeting thought that hopefully Peter isn’t too far away because he can use all the help he can get.

/

“What does it feel like?” Jackson asks.

Hannah sends him an imploring look.

“What does it feel like? Being an alpha and not having a pack?” He clarifies. Hannah’s eyes go distant, fingers loose around Jackson’s wrist.

“Empty.” She says. “I feel like a mistake, this blip in the world that doesn’t belong. It’s lonely. ”

Jackson’s throat feels thick because what Hannah is describing, how she’s feeling is how Jackson has felt, how he still feels, now more than ever since he’s discovered the truth about his parents. He doesn’t want that for anyone else.

“You have to leave.” He says, voice pleading.

“Jackson – no. I’ve already told you, I’m not leaving.” Hannah replies frustrated.

“Please.” He croaks. “I know how you feel okay? Kate killed my parents too and I’ve spent years feeling alone and angry and...and I can’t stand for anyone else to feel that way because there’s nothing worse in this world then feeling like you’re alone. You need to leave here and find Derek okay, Derek Hale. He’ll help you, he’s a good person.”

Jackson can feel Hannah’s fingers trembling. “I can’t-.” She says voice breaking.

“Promise me.” He says, trying to focus his unsteady cloudy eyes.

When Hannah simply nods in confirmation Jackson allows his eyes to slip shut, exhaustion over taking him.

“Okay.” He whispers . He feels drained, body tired but he’s still alert still able to hear everything, his sluggish heartbeat, water dripping to the west side of the train depot, the rythmatic click of Kate’s knife against the knifes sheath, a door opening.

Jackson frowns as he twitches, eyes fluttering open.

“Someone’s here.” He says and Hannah flinches before looking around them jaggedly.

“No. Not here.” He rushes to assure her. “But somewhere in the train depot, I can hear Kate but someone else just opened the door.”

Hannah cocks her head to the side and recognition lights her eyes.

“You’re right.” She agrees before getting up to her feet and lifting her head. Her nose twitches and Jackson would almost be tempted to laugh at the purely canine behaviour she’s emitting if he wasn’t feeling so drained.

“It’s Derek.” She says, voice hopeful and Jackson feels his heartbeat skip. Derek. He feels simultaneously happy and sick. If Derek’s here, he’s here to rescue Jackson but that also means he’s near Kate and after everything she’s done to Derek, Jackson doesn’t want her anywhere near  him.

Jackson concentrates his hearing, listens to Derek’s boots press quietly onto the concrete, how he shifts to avoid things that could cause noise and alert Kate of his position.

Jackson pushes his hands onto the ground and gets up on shaky limbs.

“What are you doing?” Hannah questions.

“Helping Derek.” Jackson answers simply, because that’s it for him, protecting Derek. Protecting his pack.

“Not without me your not.” Hannah assures and Jackson smiles.

It’s a struggle to keep moving but they manage it until they get to one of the more open planned areas of the train car. There’s strewn bits of furniture and debris all over the place and it’s quiet, too quiet. The suspicious quietness doesn’t register with Jackson when Derek steps around the corner, all he can do is whimper – a wet relieved sound.

Derek’s head snaps to him so suddenly Jackson almost winces because that must have hurt Derek’s neck. The older werewolf doesn’t seem bothered. His face slackens in relief and he takes purposeful strides over to Jackson, enveloping him in his arms just in time as Jackson’s knees buckle beneath him. Derek manages to hold him up and Jackson desperately presses his mouths to Derek’s.

“God you’re an idiot, why did you come here?” The teen asks but Derek doesn’t answer, just presses his hand onto Jackson’s wound.

“You’re hurt.” He says but it’s distant and then he presses his hand in more harshly. “You’re hurt.” This time it’s growled and he shoves Jackson to the side before baring his fangs and growling at Hannah.

“Hey stop it.” Jackson says using his minimal strength to pull at Derek’s jacket sleeve.  Hannah’s eyes bleed red on instinct and Derek roars just like he did that night himself and Hannah had a confrontation in the woods.

“Stop it.” Jackson repeats, feeling the words vibrate through his throat as his eyes burn and he wonders if there the same colour as Derek’s when he wolf’s out.

“She killed my sister.” Derek growls but it sounds more anguished then angry and Jackson frowns.

“I know Derek, but not intentionally. Kate killed Hannah’s parents and forced her to kill. She’s innocent. Remember what you told me Derek, you’re a predator not a killer.”

Derek goes silent for a moment, eyes cast downwards before he nods.  He slowly steps over to Jackson and the teen watches as Hannah lets out a tightened breath. Her eyes had bled red – the Alpha in her reacting to the threat but the human – the girl inside of her is terrified.

Derek pushes at the bloodstained sticky parts of Jackson’s top and the teen moans pitifully.

“It’s Wolfsbane. She said it would kill me.” Jackson states.

“There’s a cure, but I need the bullet she used.”  Derek says.

“She keeps the bullets on her.” Hannah supplies and Derek nods.

“I can get them.” He assures.

“I’d love to see you try Derek.” A voice purrs and Derek pales, body going bowstring tight.

He wishes he could be fearless, could turn around, face that voice and growl like he did with Hannah but he can’t.  He turns jaggedly and comes face to face with Kate. It’s tragic because she’s just as beautiful as Derek remembers and just as deadly.

She smirks before swinging her arm out from behind her and in her hand is an emitter. She presses the button on the top and immediately a sharp unavoidable sound crashes through the air and into the wolves’ ear drums. They all crumble to the floor in pain, hands clutching at ears.

Kate chuckles darkly before strutting over to Derek. She tsks before using the toe of her boot to shove at Derek’s side.

“Honestly Derek, you thought you could just sneak in here without me knowing. I was going to break up this little puppy party earlier but I thought it would be much more fun having you watch your plaything die slowly. I mean you can probably smell it right – the Wolfsbane eating away at him.”

Derek growls, the sound muffled by his teeth. He feels in a blind rage but the emitter is still on, the sound piercing his sensitive ear drums and echoing through his head.

“Please.” Derek begs, voice low and aggravated, detesting the fact that he even has to ask something of the women who ruined his life, is after all these years still ruining his life.

“Please what?”  She bites out.

“Don’t kill him.”  Derek whispers and Kate barks out a laugh, dark and triumphant sounding.

“I’ll tell you what; I’ll give you a choice Derek. Either you sit here and watch him die slowly then I kill you straight after or I cure him and you tell him all about his parents.”

Jackson shakily lifts his head at the mention and turns confused eyes onto Derek.

“My parents?” He mumbles.

Derek’s eyes skitter to the floor, quickly, guiltily. Jackson looks on confused.

Kate grins. “What’s it going to be Derek?”

/

“We’ve been down this block before.” Allison says testily.  “I thought you had the address.”

“Well technically the postcode is on Derek’s phone, I just know it was an abandoned rain depot and who would have thought that Beacon Hills has more than one.  I mean most cities don’t even have one.” Stiles rants.

Scott rolls his eyes.

“Great were late to the fight because were having trouble reading a map. I don’t know whether that’s more stupid or tragic.”

“I’d say it’s more heedless than anything.” A smooth voice says from beside the car, where their parked by the curb.

Stiles squawks arms flailing, elbow knocking into the steering wheel and setting the horn off. Scott yells and Allison draws her bow to aim it out the open driver’s side window at the person standing there.

The man at the window raises his hands slowly, showing he’s holding no weapons.

“You three are the ones who my nephew colluded together to help save Jackson? God help us.”

“Wait, your Derek’s uncle?” Stiles asks between gasping breaths, heart still beating erratically.

The man nods, reaching a hand through the window which Stiles takes hesitantly and shakes. 

“Peter Hale.” He introduces. “It seems I’m not the only one Derek failed to inform of his exact location. He made me aware that Jackson was being held at a train depot, he just failed to mention what one. The other one is two miles north west from here.”

“Well then get in!” Scott hastily orders and Stiles scowls at the way the werewolf looks at his Jeep- his baby like she’s a death trap.

He raises a pointed eyebrow.

“Hey buddy you can walk if you want, or do that creepy four legged gallop you werewolves are so keen on.”

Peter smirks.

“I think I’ll take my changes in the car, I’ve done enough...galloping for the day.”

Stiles huffs and Allison rolls her eyes.

“ _Let’s go_.” She urges and Peter nods before sliding into the back with her.

/

“Derek what is she talking about?”  Jackson asks because he’s tired and dying and confused. Why would Kate offer to save Jackson’s life and what does Derek know about his parents that Jackson doesn’t?

“Times a ticking Derek, in less than an hour that poison is going to go straight to his heart and he’s going to die. For once you can save someone, for once you can be unselfish but only if you tell him the truth.”

Jacksons always hated being ignored and even now whiles he’s bleeding out on the floor, it’s no different.

“What the hell are you talking about?”He shouts at her but Kate ignores him, simply keeps her eyes on Derek.

Derek looks up slowly, jaw clenched tight in an attempt to stop its wobbling. It doesn’t work.

“Okay. Save him and I’ll tell him everything.”

“Tell me what Derek?” Jackson queries but Derek just avoids his eyes.

“Save him.” Derek repeats.

“I’ll heal him the moment you tell the truth Derek.” Kate says.

Derek swallows, head nodding jaggedly.

Jackson turns to look at him, eyes vulnerable and wet. He doesn’t know what’s coming but he knows it’s bad. His senses are stretched thin, his body aching in ways he didn’t think was possible but he can sense the resentment and self hate on Derek, so thick and cloying he can almost taste it and he knows, he knows that whatever Derek is about to tell him is going to change everything.

“I knew about your parents.” Derek says. “I knew they were dead, I knew hunters killed them. Knew Kate killed them but I still let you look for them anyway.”

Jackson’s world shuts down. All sound, all smell, everything that was constant and itching and painful just...stops.  It’s like someone’s detached him from the world, has severed the parts of his brain that communicate with other parts of his body, the parts that allow him to feel, to think, to breathe. It’s too much and he can hear himself gasping, thick pitying breaths that are choked up and desperate and _weak._

“Jackson.” Derek starts, voice shaky and the only thing Jackson can do is scream, tell Derek ‘ _no’._ Because he’s angry and Derek doesn’t get a chance to explain this, to talk his way out of it and somehow make it alright. Because it’s not alright, Derek knew about his family. Knew about what happened to them so what was the point in all the training, in all the hard work. Was Derek just using him for his power - no matter how scarce, using him for the information his father had. Jackson feels sick, feels betrayed, feels alone. Again.

“Jacks-.” Derek tries again. Jackson only shakes his head, squeezes his eyes shut but the tears still come.

“I hate you.” The teen says and he wishes his heart would skip a beat, that there would be some part of him that didn’t mean that but there isn’t. His hearts steady and he knows Derek heard it too because when he opens his eyes the older werewolf looks broken.

“Now that’s what I’ve been waiting for. Your face Derek. It really is priceless. You hurting someone you care for right before I put a bullet through his brain.”

Derek’s eyes widen, heart jack hammering. “No!” He screams as Kate raises her gun, points it at Jackson.

A split second later the door crashes open and Chris Argent charges through, his gun poised.

“Kate.” He hollers, voice firm.

“I found the Alpha, these two have been conspiring with it. They’ve been committing the murders.” Kate says, voice so sure. Chris shakes his head. “I know the truth Kate. I know what you’ve done and now I need you to step away from the boy.” When she doesn’t Chris cocks his gun.  “Now.” He orders.

“Their werewolves Chris. They’ve killed people.”

“Jackson hasn’t killed anyone. You know the code.”

Kate grits her teeth.  “You never let me forget it.” She spits.

The tension in the air mounts, either hunter unwilling to lower their weapons, each werewolf still on the floor in pain from the blaring sound of the emitters, only able to be heard through their sensitive ears.  Chris can feel his arm tensing, muscle tendons flexing as his eyes skitter from Kate’s steady arm to the bleeding boy at her feet to the werewolves surrounding her.

A few seconds later the door he previously came through smashes open but he refuses to turn his eyes away for fear that Kate will kill Jackson if he does.

He recognises the steps immediately. Scott leading the front followed by Allison and Stiles and another set of steps that Chris can’t identify.

“Stay back!” He warns because if Scott comes any closer the emitter will have the same effects on him except it’s too late.  He sees who the other footsteps belonged to when Peter and Scott drop down to the floor beside him. Allison and Stiles rush forward, both dropping to the floor beside Scott, weary hands on his shoulder.

Chris doesn’t take his eyes off of Kate because he recognises the look in her eyes and it terrifies him. It’s the same look Gerard had. That deep void. That maniacal hunger for the kill.

Stiles looks up, head frantically moving as he searches for what is affecting the werewolves. His eyes narrow at the blinking light coming from the emitter.

“Allison.” He calls and when she turns to look at him, he flings his head towards Kate’s hand.

“The emitter. The sound must be affecting them.”  Stiles explains and in an instant Allison’s face changes from soft concern to hard determination. She draws her bow, pulls it tight and in a single breath releases it and watches as it cuts through the emitter. The emitter smashes to pieces between Kate’s fingers, glass falling around her. Her fingers feel like their vibrating from the force of the arrow and the shock is enough to make her unsteady on her feet and for her weapon to lower.

In the next moment Peter is on his feet and charging for her, claws out and eyes crazed.  He grabs a hold of Kate’s wrist and twists until he feels bone protest under the strong weight of his hand. Only then does Kate drop her gun.  That’s all Peter wanted to do- disarm her but now that he’s here, standing behind her, claws out he just wants to kill her. To exact his revenge. It would be so easy to slice her throat open.  To spill her blood like she did his family’s.  He presses his claws to the delicate skin of her neck and he can feel her sweating, can feel when her pulse jumps.

“You don’t want to do that Peter.” Chris says.

“Don’t I?” Peter questions. “She massacred my entire family. I’d say she deserves everything she gets.”

“She deserves to go to prison. More bloodshed won’t solve anything.” Chris reasons and Peter knows he’s right but he hates the fact that a hunter is dictating something in his life, that that’s the way it’s been for years.  But Peter knows better than anyone that death isn’t a fix it to things. It causes more complications, more pain and he’s not a murderer.

“I’ll show you the consideration she never showed my pack and spare her life, but take this as a warning Argent if anything happens to Derek I will kill you then I’ll kill your sister and then I’ll kill your daughter.” Scott growls at Peter’s revelation and Chris’s jaw ticks convulsively.

“You have my word that we shall cause Derek no harm.” Chris promises.

“And her?” Peter asks, claws near but not pressed to Kate’s neck.

“The police will deal with her.” Chris replies.

Peter nods before using his free hand to shove at Kate’s lower back, pushing her towards Chris who catches her around the elbows.

“You’re choosing werewolves over your own flesh and blood.” She spits.

Chris sets his mouth into a thin line.  “No Kate, I’m following the code.”

/

Scott slips his fingers through Allison’s, brings her hand up to his mouth so he can press a kiss to her knuckles.

“You okay?” He asks and Allison shakes her head dizzily, turns misty eyes onto Scott. She’d been staring into space for the last ten minutes.

“Yeah, it’s just a lot to take in you know?” She says and then sucks in a shuddering breath.

“Your family’s from a long line of werewolf hunters and you’re dating a werewolf. Just regular teenage angst.” Scott says with a lopsided smile and Allison laughs – a little punched out exhausted sound before her grin fades and she leans into Scott.

“I don’t know what I would have done if it was you she was hurting.” Allison admits and Scott presses a kiss to her forehead. “But it wasn’t me, I’m fine and so are you. So’s Stiles. Everyone’s going to be fine, thanks to you.” Scott says and Allison scrunches up her nose. “Not thanks to me.” She denies.

“You’re beautiful, you fight like a warrior princess and you’re modest. What did I do to deserve you?”  Scott asks, voice soft and honest.

“You were super charitable in a past life?” Allison guesses and Scott grins, leans down to kiss her.

Stiles walks over and clears his throat loudly and the two teens separate before throwing twin looks of annoyance at their friend.

“Oh I’m sorry I wasn’t aware that the sidewalk was your private make out point.” Stiles sarcastically barks.

Scott and Allison roll their eyes however their unable to keep the smiles off of their faces.

“I uh...I just spoke to my dad. You dad and your aunt just arrived at the station. It’s not confirmed yet but dad said that with the amount of evidence they have charted up against Kate she’ll be going away for a long time.” Stiles explains quietly and a little reluctantly as he looks up at Allison. Scott follows his line of vision and they both watch on as Allison nods mechanically even though her eyes are watery.

“That’s...good. That’s good.   She needs to be punished for what she did.” Allison says.

Scott smiles at her sadly. “It’s okay to be upset you know?” He allows.

She smiles back. “I know.” She agrees but she’s not, a part of her is maybe but only so much can be forgiven. Murdering innocent people and using children to do you’re biding. That can’t be forgiven, even if your family. 

“So good, this is good. Maybe things can finally get back to normal.” Scott shares.

“Well...almost.” Stiles says and winces lightly. “We still have an adolescent alpha to deal with.”

They all look over to where Peter is standing with Hannah. She looks weary and on edge but more than anything she looks tired. Peter removes his jacket before lightly resting it over her shoulders. She seems stricken by the movements, by the simple touch. She curls her fingers around the shoulder of the jacket and pulls it tighter around herself.  She smiles at Peter, it’s fragile but all that matters is that it’s there.

“Where’s Jackson?” Allison asks and Peter’s lip turns down.

“The Wolfsbane is out of his system but it seems himself and Derek have some things to discuss. I think its best we stay out of their way.” He explains.

“We can go back to mine, eat and rest. We all need it.” Allison offers and Hannah looks unsure.

“It’s safe with Allison I swear. You can trust me, trust us.” Scott says gently. Hannah looks contemplative looking slowly between them all before finally her eyes stop on Allison.

“Jackson trusts you?” She asks and Allison looks perplexed for a moment before she nods.

“Yeah..yeah I guess he does.” She replies and Hannah nods. “Then I trust you.” The werewolf says.

“Okay not that I’m not a fan of hunters and werewolves relinquishing this whole I’m going to hunt you, - yeah well I’m going to main you - rawrrr - sort of thing but uh.. It’s three in the morning and cold as balls out and I for one am pretty fond of my limbs so can we get out of here before we all freeze to death?” Stiles asks.

Peter snorts and Scott smiles, slings an arm around Stiles’ shoulders.

“Sure buddy, let’s go home.”

/

Jackson’s healing, the Wolfsbane slowing leaving his system. Peter had healed him because he couldn’t stand the thought of Derek touching him of Derek having to rub flame burnt Wolfsbane into his skin. Onto wounds that were only on the surface but easy to fix, easy compared to the ones on the inside.

Jackson’s sitting on a box in the train depot, he can see Derek out of the corner of his eye, hesitant to walk over.

“Jackson-“

“Don’t.”

Derek’s mouth snaps shut.

It’s a tense silence, feeling elongated and painful.

Eventually Jackson speaks up. “Were you ever going to tell me?”

“Yes.” Jackson shuts his eyes and forces a quick breath out through his nose.

“I can hear your heartbeat now you know.” Jackson whispers but he still won’t look at Derek. “So I’m going to ask you again. Were you ever going to tell me?”

Derek swallows, looks down, ashamed. “No.” He admits.

“Why?” Jackson asks and Derek shakes his head, his mind refusing to accept this ache, this rift between them. The pain that he can already feel on a deep level, sitting within his chest. His wolf is aching, growling at him to fix this, fix this god dammit.

“Because I can’t lose you.” He eventually admits.

“Well guess what Derek?” Jackson asks as he finally turns to look at him. “You just did.”  

/

It’s hard to imagine leaving your life behind.  Every time you think you’ll have everything you’ll need, you remember something else. Your favourite book. The fifty dollar bill you won from Danny in that game of Monopoly you both played when you were twelve. That ticket stub from your junior prom.  A photo of you and your parents from your first day of school. Your first teeth.

Jackson packs necessities, shoves a couple of tops, jeans and toiletries into a duffel with shaking hands.  His fingers are pink and sore from when he had scrubbed at them in an attempt to get his blood off.

He wonders how far he can run, how far he can go before his dad has the entire Beacon Hills police depart out looking for him. He’s technically still a child, he can’t legally stay or go anywhere without an adult and the longer Jackson thinks about it the more difficult it seems to disappear without a trace.

But he can’t stay here. Nothing will make him want to stay here. All he knows is that he can’t leave without saying goodbye to his parents. He scrambles for a piece of paper and a pen but when the tip of the biro is placed to the paper he doesn’t know what to write.

_Don’t look for me._

_I’ll be safe._

_Goodbye._

Nothing seems appropriate, he can’t express and fit into words what he’s doing because it’s not normal. But Jackson’s not normal, he’s a werewolf and he can’t stay here knowing what he does and feeling how he does. Everything about Beacon Hills feels like a curse and now that he’s a wolf he has all these heightened senses, heightened emotions and he’s so angry. He can feel the itch of fur beneath his pallid flesh, feel his claws urging to break through and he can’t be around his parents like this, he can’t be around anyone human and vulnerable.  Not Danny nor Lydia. He would never forgive himself if he endangered them in anyway.  But a note isn’t enough. Jackson’s parents have given him everything and the least he can do is show them that he appreciates that, that he cares for them just as much as they care for him.

He briefly looks at himself in the mirror just to make sure all the blood is off of him but even without the blood marking his skin, he looks sunken and sick. His eyes are watery and large, pupils wide and dark from recently fuelled adrenalin. He looks thinner, collarbones jutting and hair thick with grease and sweat. He lets out a shuddering breath and leaves the bathroom, quietly enters his parent’s bedroom where their resting easily, unknowing to the bombshell Jackson’s about to lay on them.

He keeps going until he’s sitting at the top of the bed, right by his mother’s hip. She looks so peaceful and Jackson wonders how long it will be until he can see her again. When he’ll have this animalistic side of himself under control. This side he’s craved for so long. He releases a little sound, this unhappy little push of noise but it’s enough to wake his mother who blinks at him several times before frowning and reaching a hand out to him.

“Jackson?”  She queries as she pushes herself up in bed.  He doesn’t say anything.  “Sweetheart what’s wrong?” She implores.  Jackson’s shoulders start jumping, chest making pathetic wheezing noises as he cries because suddenly it’s too much.

He didn’t know anything about his real parents and now he knows too much, knows who and what he is. But he’s still alone and now he’s forced to leave the only other people who have cared for him because he’s a liability, he’s dangerous to be around.

His mother’s frown deepens before she shakes her husband. “David wake up.” She says, voice pitched and clipped.  David wakes instantly, turning to face them and his reaction is much like Sophie’s.

“Jackson?” He asks.

“I love you.”  Jackson answers because this is it, this is enough. These are the words and feelings that he couldn’t express through a note. “Both of you.” He says and he realizes that he means it. He might not be there’s but he loves them and he appreciates his parents even more because they don’t ask why he suddenly decided to say those three words after refusing to even acknowledge them after he found out he was adopted. Instead they say they love him too.

David sits up and places a hand on his shoulder. “You’re shaking.” He realises, voice alarmed. “Son what’s wrong?”

“I have to go. I don’t know for how long but I’ll come back I swear and I’ll call when I can.” Jackson says, voice rushed.

“What, what are you talking about? Leaving, going where?”  Sophie asks.

“I don’t know yet.” Jackson admits.

“Jackson, this is crazy.” His dad tells him.

“Do you remember when I was twelve and you said that you don’t mind what I do as long as it makes me happy.” David’s quiet for a long time before he nods once, sharply. He had said that but he didn’t mean for it to be used as an excuse for his sixteen year old son to leave home.

“And leaving will make you happy?” David asks.

“Yes.” Jackson admits and David knows that he’s lost because from the moment he first saw Jackson, a crying little pink bundle of new born baby with his rose kissed chubby cheeks and his beautiful blue eyes he knew he could never deny him anything.

“Do you need anything, money, the car?”

“No dad I’ll be fine. I swear.”

Jackson turns to look at his mum, sees confusion strewn across her face.

“You call me.”  She says and she sounds fierce, protective. Jackson nods in promise, hugs them both then leaves.

/

Allison frowns when there’s a knock at her door but before she can go to answer it Hannah perks up, warmth covering her eyes.

“Jackson.” She says before jumping up from the sofa and scurrying towards the door. She looks a lot better now, she’d gotten a warm shower and fresh clothes from Allison.

Allison, Scott Peter and Stiles all follow Hannah though the hall and get there just in time for Hannah to open the door revealing Jackson wearing loose sweats and a hoodie with a duffel thrown over his shoulder.

Hannah reaches forward tentatively and wraps her arms around him and Jackson does the same, his limbs feeling like lead.

They step into the house and Jackson closes the door behind him before turning to face them all.

“I’m uh, I’m leaving.” He tells them and Allison shakes her head disbelievingly.

“Jackson you’re not in danger anymore, Kate’s been arrested.”  She explains.

“This isn’t about her.” Jackson urges. “I cant...I can’t control myself like this and I can’t be around the people I love when I could easily turn on them.”

“Jackson we can teach you how to control it. “ Scott says.

Jackson smiles, it’s just like McCall to try and be nice to him even though Jackson’s been nothing but a bastard to him for years.

“I know you could but it’s my choice and I can’t stay here, not right now.”  He admits.

“I know a pack – the Thomson’s. They live in New Orleans, they welcome Omega’s. I’m sure they’d be more than willing to take you both in, to train you both and help you to control your wolves.”  Peter explains.

“When can we leave?” Hannah asks.

“Tonight.” Peter answers.

“Okay.” Jackson nods.

Peter walks towards them but before they can get to the door Allison rushes forwards.

“Jackson wait. Just... are you sure? What about your parents, what about school? You have a life here, you have _us._ ”

“I just need some time Al, you get that right. I’ll come back I swear.” He promises and Allison tightens her jaw and fists her hands in a bid to stop herself from crying.

“If you’re not back in a couple of months I’m going to come to New Orleans and drag you back myself.” She threatens lightly and they both laugh.

“Well when you put it like that, how could I refuse?” He teases before he remembers something and reaches into his pocket.

“Can you, can you give this to Danny for me. Please?”

She takes it without looking. “Sure.” She says.

Scott, Stiles and Allison watch them leave before Stiles turns to Allison.

“What did he give you?”  Stiles questions.

Allison opens her fist and looks down at the crumpled purple fifty pound monopoly note.

/

Hannah falls asleep almost instantly, her head cushioned on one of Jackson’s spare hoodies. Jackson doesn’t know how long it is that he watches her through the rear-view mirror. He only stops when Peter speaks.

“You are aware that my nephew had no idea who you were at first.”

“I really don’t want to talk about Derek.” Jackson tells him.

Peter half shrugs. “Your reaction is understandable just know that no matter what Derek did or didn’t do, it was never his intention to hurt you.”

Jackson flashes back to a conversation he had with Derek right before he showed the older werewolf the flight tickets he brought.

_“You know I’d never do anything to hurt you – not willingly.”_

Jackson shakes his head; he wants to banish the memory, to avoid his feelings.  He thinks that maybe he could until he hears a piercing howl – it’s filled with the sound of loss and regret and Jackson tenses in the passenger seat.

“What was that?” He gasps out, turning weary eyes onto Peter.

“Jackson do you know how wolves communicate with one another?” The older man asks and Jackson shakes his head – no.

“When you’re in a pack, when you share that connection you can howl. A simple sound to alert your pack as to where you are, to let them hear your pain.” Peter explains and Jackson doesn’t have to think on it because he knows that was Derek. He’d heard him howl plenty a time but never had it sounded like that – so hopeless.  

Jackson’s stomach bubbles, urging him to send a howl back, to say ‘ _yes I’m here, I’m here, come find me_.’

“We could turn back, if you want?” Peter asks quietly and Jackson’s eyes dart to the road where ahead is the exit sign for Beacon Hills wishing the visitors a pleasant stay and the wish for them to come back soon. Jackson shakes his head.

“No. Keep driving.” He says and he can’t be sure but he swears he sees Peter frown.

Derek’s next howl chills Jackson’s bones.

/


End file.
